Going Home
by innocentimp
Summary: Harry Potter went to live with the Cullens when he was 7 years old, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings he's not seen or heard from them in years. This is his journey home. HP/EC
1. Chapter 1

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was seven years old, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Disclaimer: All recognized works belong to their respective owners, this is merely a way to exercise my writing muscle on a regular basis.

Pairings: EC/EP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

"Are you certain you're up to this, Harry?" Charlie Weasley asked as he helped him into his cloak. "We could put it off a few weeks."

"I'm sure." Harry's fingers trembled and slipped against the clasp of his cloak and his stomach turned. He paused, took a deep breath, and forced himself to steady.

The clasp clicked into place.

"Can we portkey from here, or do we need to walk to the front gates?"

"McGonagall keyed it to work inside the wards." Charlie held out a torn rucksack. "Ready when you are."

Harry reached for the dangling strap, hoping he was doing the right thing.

"Home." Charlie incanted, activating the portkey and plunging them through space.

Harry hit the ground hard, retching as his fingers curled into the cool grass beneath his hands.

"Easy." Charlie knelt at his side and conjured a cup. "Auguamenti." The moment Harry's stomach settled Charlie looped an arm around his waist and hauled him back into a sitting position. "Here. Sip."

Harry wrapped shaking hands around the cup and tried to keep the water from sloshing over the sides. Regardless of what Pomfrey's scans said, he knew he wasn't getting any better.

"Evanesco." Charlie banished the mess and sat back with a sigh. "It's nice here. Warmer than I thought."

"Alaska summers are beautiful."

"Do you miss it? Being here?" Charlie asked, casually looping an arm around his knee.

"Well, not the winters." Harry sipped on the water, relieved that it washed away some of the lingering bitterness. "The cold I can handle, but the constant darkness was always hard."

"Probably easier for your family."

"In some ways, yes. But hunting in the winter up here is difficult, herds migrate, and the bears hibernate." Harry shrugged and trailed off. "I'm ready."

Charlie stood, brushed off his jeans and offered Harry a hand. "Well, if the portkey was accurate, the house should be just over that rise," Charlie said, pointing toward the south.

"Yeah. I know where we are." Harry began walking as a fresh bout of nerves flooded his system. How many times had he roamed these woods? Played an unbalanced game of hide and seek? Taken a walk with his father, both content to enjoy each other's company without the urge to fill the silence? He didn't know. But he could have found his way home from here blind folded.

"Wow." Charlie stopped as they crested the hill. "Just, wow."

"Yeah." Harry stepped up next to him, a small smile playing on his lips as he drank in the view. A three story stone and log cabin rose directly in front of them, the sun gleaming off the floor to ceiling windows.

"You grew up in that? It looks like a hotel!"

"What did you expect? A cave?" Harry laughed and let gravity lengthen his stride down the hill and toward the front door.

"Well, no. But this is magnificent." Charlie caught up with him in a few quick strides. "How long has it been since you've been back?"

Harry's smile slipped from his face. "Five years." Harry paused. "Not since the summer I turned fifteen." He elaborated as he ran a shaking hand through his hair.

"They don't know I'm coming Charlie. Maybe I should write first, or something."

"Hey." Charlie grasped his shoulder and pulled him around. "None of that. I made you a promise, I intend to see it through. Besides, they're your family, I'm sure they'll be excited to see you."

"I don't know. I haven't spoken to them since I was in school. No phone calls. No letters." At the time he'd thought he was doing the right thing, pulling back, pulling away. The idea that they'd get dragged into the war, be put at risk… He couldn't bear the thought. So he'd kept his letters brief, hidden a lot of what was going on in his life, written less. And they'd responded less. More days and fewer letters, until Harry realized he hadn't heard from them in months. It had hurt, that separation. But by then things were so bad he was too afraid to maintain the contact. He'd told himself he was doing the right thing, and he let the Cullen's go. Keeping them safe was the very least he owed them.

"You're thinking too much." Charlie prompted. "Come on. We came all this way, let's at least see if they're home." He jogged up the porch steps and knocked on the door before Harry could stop him.

He held his breath. No answer. He forced his feet to carry him up to stand next to Charlie.

"Maybe they're out." Charlie said as he knocked again.

Harry peered through the small vertical windows that hugged the door. "Maybe." But he didn't think so. He pulled his wand. "Alohamora." The locks on the door clicked open and Harry grasped the knob.

"Uh, Harry, I know they're your family and all, but I don't think spooking a bunch of vampires is a good idea."

"It's alright. They aren't here."

"All the same, maybe we should just wait for them on the porch."

Harry wandered into the living room of the main floor. "They aren't coming back." He said, voice flat.

Pieces of furniture dotted the living room but Harry only saw what wasn't there.

The grand piano where Edward had taught him to play chopsticks.

The soft chaise where Esme would bring him soup when he was sick.

The two arm chairs that used to sit in the bay window where Alice and Edward had taught him to play chess.

All of it. Gone.

He knew without looking that Esme's art wouldn't be on any of the walls, and that Carlisle's bookshelves of first editions would be empty.

"We should go." Harry winced at the way his voice wobbled. "They aren't here, and we should go."

"Maybe they're out hungting." Charlie offered, his brows creased with a frown. "Or travelling."

"They're not." Harry strode for the front door, choking on the memories and disappointment. "They've moved on."

"We could ask around, see if they left a forwarding address." Charlie pulled the door shut behind him and locked it with a spell. "You shouldn't just give up, the house was still furnished, maybe they're coming back."

"You don't understand. They've moved on. New towns, new lives, new stories." Harry jerked his shoulders, feet eating up the ground back to the portkey. He didn't stop until he was standing over the rucksack.

"It's not surprising. I moved here when I was seven. The Cullens had been here nearly two years by that point. By the time I was fifteen their ages would have become suspicious. I was foolish to think they'd still be here."

"Harry…"

Charlie's soft voice struck him like a blow. "We were always going to part ways Charlie. I'm human, they're vampires. It's okay, let's just go home." Harry picked up the rucksack and held it out.

Charlie hesitated or a long moment, glancing through the trees surrounding them as if he expected to see the Cullen's appear.

"Please." Harry winced at the plea in his voice. He knew his face echoed it. "It's okay. For the best, even. I just want to go…" He couldn't force the word home past his lips.

Charlie's fingers grasped the portkey and with a look Harry couldn't meet he said, "Hogwarts."


	2. Chapter 2

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/EP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

Charlie rode the staircase to the Headmistress' office silently, fingers clenched around the roll of parchment he'd grabbed off his desk in the quarters he and Harry shared.

Charlie grimaced. The return portkey trip had been no kinder to Harry, so he'd settled him into bed and dimmed the lights. He'd check on him later, but Charlie knew he'd be out the rest of the night. These days it felt like Harry spent more time asleep than awake; disturbing considering he'd run on four or five hours a night during the war. Before… well, before everything.

_Merlin, what a mess._

Charlie knocked and pushed open the heavy oak door without waiting for a reply.

"Mr. Weasley." McGonagall glanced up from the paper work she was buried in. "Did the portkey fail?"

"No Headmistress. We've been and gone."

McGonagall pursed her lips and scowled over her glasses. "What happened?"

"They weren't there. Harry seems to believe they've moved on."

"Do you disagree?" McGonagall floated the stack of parchment she was sorting to the floor and waved Charlie to a chair in front of her desk.

"Lesson plans," Charlie said, dropping his roll of parchment on the edge of her desk. "I want to. But no. Harry's is right, they've moved on."

"And Harry? How did he take it?" McGonagall asked as a tea service appeared between them.

"You know Harry."

"He's fine." They said at the same time.

"Right, "Charlie said. "He says its okay. But he's not. And with Ron and Hermione in Australia, the aurors still pulling him into follow up raids, I don't know how much longer he'll last. He's burning out, Headmistress."

"Minerva," She corrected as she drew her wand. "You're a colleague, first names are appropriate. And given the circumstances, I believe this is also appropriate. Accio."

"Fire Whiskey?" Charlie asked, eyeing the bottle that zipped to the desk.

"Don't be crass. That swill is English. This is Scottish. Special reserve." She poured a generous helping into her tea then passed the bottle to Charlie.

"Honestly, Mr. Weasley -"

"Charlie." He corrected with a grin.

"I don't understand. Harry was so close to the Cullens." A heavy tome dropped to the floor. "And they seemed dedicated to him," she continued, levitating the book back to the top of the shelf. "Surely there must be some sort of misunderstanding."

"I don't know. And I don't know where to start to look, either."

"Did Harry have no suggestions?"

"None that he was willing to share." Charlie sat back into his arm chair, enjoying the way the warmth of the whiskey-laced tea burned its way down his throat. "And I don't think it's a good idea to ask him. You didn't see him after we got back. I don't want to put him through anything else. Not until we have definite answers."

"It's not like him to be so open." She remarked, concern coloring her voice.

"He wasn't." Charlie sighed and set his tea on the edge of the desk, balancing his elbows on his knees. "I would have preferred upset. He just sort of, took it in stride. I think he truly believes that the people who raised him, the people who loved him, could just walk away from him. Worse, he justifies it."

"I never interacted with the Cullens much." Several books hit the floor, scattering parchments in every direction. "I only ever met his father. But every interaction I ever had led me to believe he was completely devoted to Harry."

Charlie pulled his wand and started to levitate the books back into a stack.

Minerva waved him off. "Don't bother. I've got parchment and books coming out of my ears. Trying to settle Albus' affairs is a hideous task. Nearly two centuries of life and I don't think that man ever threw anything away."

Charlie holstered his wand and redirected the conversation. "I've never met any of Harry's family. But they way he talked about them. Those three weeks we spent…" He trailed off, the slick glide of sick memories forcing a shudder through him. "In the lucid moments, the moments they left us alone, we'd talk. Harry nearly always spoke of home. Of the Cullens. "

The book lying on the floor slammed into the side of the desk hard enough to split the binding.

"I promised him, Minerva. I promised him that if he'd hold on, if he'd pull through, I'd take him home. I don't like that I'm failing him." Charlie bent down and scooped the book off the floor. "I swear, this thing is a menace. If I didn't know better I'd swear it was a Wheeze's product." He dropped it on the desk.

"It's not." Minerva said, gaze shrewd. "But it is enchanted. Watch. Cullen," she said softly.

The book rattled, shaking loose several sheets of parchment.

"What the hell?"

"Language, Mr. Weasley."

Despite his curiosity, Charlie grinned as Minerva pulled the top sheet of parchment out of the book, sat back, and scanned the contents.

"Oh, Albus. What have you done?"

"What is it?"

Minerva pressed her lips together, exhaled on a sigh, and began to read.

_Dearest Minerva,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and settling comfortably into your new office. I know you'll do the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts proud. I know you must be terribly busy, what with settling my affairs and preparing the school to readmit students, but this one task I must ask you to treat with the greatest of urgency. Please, undo the most grievous wrongs of an old man, I fear Harry's future depends upon it._

_As you know, I removed Harry from the Dursley's when he was seven, you also know why. What you do not know is why I chose the Cullens to adopt him. I didn't feel it was safe to place Harry in a wizarding home, the risk, even with a secret keeper, was far too great. He couldn't stay at Hogwarts, and there were no other relatives with which to place him. Instead I turned to Carlisle Cullen, a man whom I greatly respected, and one who owed me a life debt. The Cullen's are a most remarkable family, their choice of lifestyle and dedication to their principles only one of their many exemplary qualities. As a family I knew they could offer Harry both the protection he required and the home he so desperately needed. I'm certain that all of the reasons have occurred to you, there are several others, others I'm not terribly proud of._

_When I collected Harry from the Dursley's he was terribly shy and desperate to please. To my greatest shame, it was a combination I exploited. I knew that in placing Harry with the Cullens, a family that would be scorned and ridiculed in our world, and a family that would provide him with all the love and support he would need, that I would be molding a young man capable of defending the people he cared for and the ideals he stood for, even into death. Alas, my plan worked a little too well._

_I never expected Harry's love for the Cullen's, or his reliance on them, to run so deep. He had but three and half short years with them. Naturally, I thought he'd come to Hogwarts, and begin to assimilate into our world, slowly, and unintentionally, distancing himself from his adoptive family. It was short sighted and ignorant on my part, knowing Harry's character as I did, to believe he would ever grow apart from those he loved._

_But there were other parts of Harry's character I understood all too well. His insecurities, his longing to fit in, his deep-seeded fear of being left behind. I worried that if I didn't distance him from the Cullens that he wouldn't be able to stand for our world. Without him, we were lost. So I began to cultivate a distance and nurture Harry's doubts._

_The letters I intercepted over the years you will find here, preserved for their intended recipients. The worst of my sins are stored in my pensive, should the need ever arise for you to view them, I hope only that you'll keep in mind that they were the miss-guided intentions of an old man trying to do the right thing for everyone._

_Though I know of the sacrifice Harry must have made to end the war, I am equally assured of his survival. But I fear the price he has paid to return to this world is very high. He needs his family. Please Minerva, see that he finds his way home. Consider it my last request._

_Faithfully,_

_Albus_

"That manipulative old bastard."

"Quite." Minerva agreed.

"How could he? Knowing what it would do to Harry." Charlie surged out of the arm chair and paced the length of the desk. "How many letters are there?" He asked, eyeing the stack Minerva was spreading out across the desk.

"Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Many are from Harry to the Cullens." Minerva pulled several toward her. "Should we open them, see what events Albus chose to conceal?"

Charlie paused midstride, debating with himself. "No," he said after some consideration. "No. Those are Harry's. I don't think we should read them without his permission. But the ones from the Cullens…" Charlie trailed off and pulled a stack of letters toward him. "Perhaps those…" But he couldn't bring himself to break the seal, couldn't bring himself to break Harry's trust, no matter how well intentioned he thought himself to be.

"Charlie, look." Minerva gestured to the letter he held in his hands. "The other side. The return address."

Forks, Washington.

"Their new residence?" Charlie wondered aloud.

"Probably. Perhaps they are still there. We should tell Harry, I can key another Portkey immediately."

"No." Charlie interrupted. "No. I don't want to tell Harry about this. He won't go. Not again."

"But Charlie -"

"No. He won't go, and I won't risk his disappointment, I can't stand to see him like this, but I refuse to make it worse. Spell this, Minerva." Charlie extended the book that had concealed the letters and Albus' confession. "I'll go. If they are still there I'll explain the situation." He accio'd the letters, shrunk them, and put them in his pocket. "If they care about Harry as I think they do, they'll come to him."

Minerva pressed her lips together but took the book from his grasp. "You are certain about this?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Bring them, Charlie. Quickly. I'll cover with Harry for you." She placed the book on the desk and spelled it into a portkey.

"He should sleep the rest of the night. I'll be back as soon as I can." He plucked the book off the desk and free-fell into space.


	3. Chapter 3

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

Thanks for all the reviews!

In Charlie's opinion, two international portkeys in one day was at least one too many. He'd hit the forest floor hard and sat in the damp undergrowth for several long minutes to get the world to stop spinning. Needless to say, it hadn't helped his mood. Added to the fact that he'd been waiting on the Cullen's porch for over seven hours and what little patience he'd stored away to deal with them was rapidly vanishing.

_Merlin help them if they don't have a reasonable explanation for not seeking out Harry._

The more Charlie thought about the situation, the more it irritated him_. _Yes, Dumbledore had manipulated and lied, deliberately creating a rift between Harry and the Cullens, but his actions didn't absolve the Cullens completely. What kind of family could inspire the type of love and devotion he'd witnessed in Harry every single day of their capture, but not seek out their son? Surely when the letters had slowed, then halted completely they'd wondered. Worried. Hell, the years he'd spent in Romania he'd never gone more than a week between a letter or a fire call home. His mother wouldn't have stood for it.

The crunch of tires on gravel interrupted his thoughts. A shiny black car pulled up the drive. When a man stepped out Charlie stood, brushed off his jeans, and strode toward him. Though he'd never met him, Charlie recognized Carlisle Cullen on sight.

"Can I help you?" Carlisle asked, eyeing the young man approaching him. The last thing he'd expected was to come off his shift at the hospital to return home to find a stranger sitting on his doorstep.

"I'm here to speak with you about your son."

Carlisle's smooth gait faltered at the British accent. He'd had blessedly little to fear in his long life, but this stranger's presence terrified him in ways he'd never expected to experience.

"Harry?" Carlisle whispered.

"Yes." The young man narrowed his gaze, shrewd blue eyes assessing.

"Is he…?" He couldn't force himself to utter the question, though he knew speaking it would make it no more or less likely. How strange.

"Dead? No."

The answer calmed him, but the tone that delivered it spoke of unwelcome news all the same. "Please, come inside. I'm Carlisle Cullen," he said as he unlocked the door and deposited his keys in the glass bowl. "I didn't catch your name."

"Charlie Weasley."

"Please, come on in. The living room is just through here. Can I offer you something to drink? Water, perhaps. I've also got some tea in the kitchen."

"No, thank you." Charlie sat in the arm chair Carlisle gestured to.

"Is my son… is Harry well?"

"When was the last time you spoke with Harry?"

Carlisle frowned. Why the evasion? "It's been some time. Not since he was seventeen, I believe."

_Nearly three years._ _How could I not have realized how long it's been?_

"And there've been no letters, no firecalls, since then?"

"We never received an answer to any of our letters. Please, Mr. Weasley, is Harry all right?"

"Charlie. And yes, for the most part, Harry is fine. And firecalls, did you make any attempt to contact Harry that way?"

Carlisle sat back in his chair, curiosity and relief overshadowing the nagging fear. "Our fireplace here was never spelled for that purpose. I did attempt a fire call a few years ago to Harry's Headmaster from our Alaska home. I was," he paused, searching for the right words. "I was gently dissuaded from speaking with Harry. The Headmaster indicated Harry had confided in him his desire to remain in Britain, but was unsure how best to deliver such news. The Headmaster assured me that though Harry was doing well, he was stressed at the thought of hurting our feelings. He suggested that we wait the time when Harry felt secure enough to contact us on his own. He never did."

"When did you speak with Dumbledore?"

Carlisle thought back, he'd firecalled one last time near Harry's birthday. "Three years ago. At least."

"And you never tried to contact him again?"

"Not for my part. I knew that Harry was under a great deal of strain at the time, finishing school, preparing for interviews, applying for academies. I didn't want to make things any worse. I believe my son Edward may have sent him a few more letters, but if he ever received any replies he never shared them."

"Interviews and applications for what?"

"Post graduate schooling and jobs, I imagine. The Headmaster wasn't specific."

"Dr. Cullen-"

"Carlisle, please."

"Carlisle. Harry never applied for any post graduate schools. Or jobs. Perhaps you were unaware, but our world was in the midst of a war. Harry was a central figure…"

"I know only what the Headmaster told me. That Harry had defeated Voldemort," Carlisle paused when Charlie visibly flinched, "that Harry had defeated Voldemort in an altercation at the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts. According to the Headmaster Harry spent the remainder of his schooling preparing for his future."

"And you never contacted him? Never followed up?"

"Only in the letters and call to the Headmaster I previously mentioned." Carlisle leaned forward, catching Charlie's eyes. "I always feared that Harry would find his home in Britain, amongst his people. I promised myself long ago I'd never stand in the way of his happiness. Even if it meant letting go of my son."

"The Headmaster lied to you. Harry didn't defeat… Voldemort," Charlie choked out. "Not until three months ago." He stood and withdrew a stack of paper from his back pocket. He laid them on the small table between their chairs and whispered an incantation Carlisle didn't understand.

"What are these?" Carlisle reached forward, recognizing a letter addressed to Harry in his own hand. The seal on the back unbroken.

"I think this letter," Charlie passed over a crisply folded bit of parchment, "will explain things better than I can. It's from the Headmaster," he added.

Carlisle took the parchment and read the Headmaster's message. When he was done, he sat back in his chair, the parchment slipping from his nerveless fingers.

"My God." He had to stop and gather his thoughts. "And are those all of the letters he intercepted?"

"All 167 of them." Charlie confirmed. "Nearly half are from Harry. Some date as far back as his third year. I counted," he added at Carlisle's expression. "While I was waiting for you, I sorted through them. I haven't read any of them, I wasn't sure Harry would want me to."

A thought that perhaps should have occurred to him far sooner, surfaced to the forefront of Carlisle's mind. "Why isn't Harry with you? Why didn't he come?"

The red head shifted uncomfortably and glanced away. "I took Harry to Alaska this morning."

"And found an empty house." Carlisle concluded. "We notified the Headmaster of our relocation. And we sent Harry letters. Several, including pictures."

"I'm sure they are in that stack." Charlie said, gesturing sharply to the letters on the table. "In any case, Harry has no idea where you are."

"And my son believes…" He couldn't finish the thought, nor did he need the confirmation Charlie offered.

"That you and your family have moved on. Without him."

Though he'd expected them, the words still struck him like a blow. He prided himself on his empathy, his ability to experience and sympathize with human emotions, but he'd never felt this. The gut wrenching pain of knowing that he'd let someone down, failed a cherished member of his family. That is was Harry made the hurt all the deeper. And more vicious.

_Three years. I've lost three years of my son's life. How must they have passed for him?_

"Why did you come, Charlie? Why come without Harry's knowledge?"

"To determine if your family loved Harry even a tenth of the amount he loves you. And because I made Harry a promise. A promise I intend to keep."

Carlisle stood, collected the letters from the table, and walked away.

"Where are you going?" Charlie asked, following Carlisle down the hall.

"To pack. And to book a flight. I need to see my son."

"Then you'll come? To Hogwarts I mean?"

Carlisle paused in the act of pulling clothing out of his closest and stuffing them into a duffle bag. "My son suffers Mr. Weasley. I'll not stand for it." He turned back to his task. "Not while I have the power to do something about it."

"And the rest of your family, what of them?"

"I know I speak for them on this issue. However they are away right now, vacationing in South America," he explained. "I was supposed to join them tomorrow morning. I'll leave a note and call them once we get to Scotland."

"Best do it now," Charlie said as Carlisle zipped closed his duffle. "Phones won't work on Hogwarts grounds. And I can get us there faster than a plane."

"A note then. In any case, Alice will likely see my change of plans, though I doubt she'll understand them." He wrote a quick message to Esme and placed it on her pillow in case they returned looking for him.

"When you're ready," Charlie said, holding out what was left of an old book.

Carlisle grimaced, but grasped the binding. He'd only travelled this way once, but it had been enough to convince him he didn't care for it.

Moments later his feet hit solid stone and he shot out an arm to keep Charlie from falling forward.

"What is all of that noise?" Carlisle shouted to ensure Charlie could hear him over the alarms filling the Headmaster's office.

"Charlie! Thank heavens! You'll make seven." An elderly woman in long black robes that Carlisle distantly recognized as the Deputy Headmistress rushed forward. "Quickly, we need you on the grounds; someone's torn a hole in the wards!"


	4. Chapter 4

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

"What's going on?" Carlisle asked, following Minerva and Charlie down the corridors at a run. "When did the wards fall?" Charlie asked.

"They didn't. About an hour ago someone tripped them, then started to pick them apart. Everyone in the castle is down near the greenhouses, trying to provide cover for Harry. I returned to my office to fire call the aurors, that's when you showed up."

"What do you mean, cover Harry?"

Minerva glanced over her shoulder, for the first time acknowledging Carlisle's presence. "Dr. Cullen, it's good to see you. Unfortunately we have a situation on our hands right now, if you could please wait in the castle, I would appreciate it." They burst through the main doors and ran down the steps.

"Oh shit." Charlie breathed.

Down the sloping lawns, just past the green houses, spell fire lit the night sky like the aurora borealis over Alaska. In the center of the mêlée Carlisle saw what he assumed to be the torn wards, and in the center, Harry. Tendrils of magic snaked away from him in every direction, like lines of poison from a wound. Every few seconds they'd surge and spark and begin to pull away. Each time Harry adjusted his stance, redoubled the Latin incantation he was muttering nonstop, and reined them in.

"Merlin Minerva, Harry shouldn't be acting as the lynch pin, I'm not sure he can handle the strain on his magic."

"I know, but Kingsley couldn't hold them, he had to hand them off to Harry." She drew her wand and flicked aside a stray spell, sending a streak of red ahead that plowed into the caster. "Dr. Cullen, please, inside!"

"It looks as though you can use some help."

"He's right Minerva, we're out numbered." Charlie turned to Carlisle. "Harry can't defend himself well; the best he can do is the pull the wards close to him and hope they bounced off stray magic. If you could run interference for him, that'll take some of the strain off. We need about thirty seconds to reset the wards."

"I can handle that."

"Be careful. I know you're fast, but you'll probably only get a single pass at these guys. They're well trained and have dealt with vampires before." Charlie grasped his arm, "avoid the spell fire. Most of it won't do much more than knock you on your ass, but once they know what you are that'll change. Be careful. Those men know spells that can destroy your kind."

"Thank you for the warning, but I can handle myself. Right now my main concern is Harry."

Out of the corner of his eye, Carlisle saw Harry fall to a knee and jerk the strands of magic closer to him. "We need to move, I think Harry's strength is failing."

"One last thing. Try and stay out of Harry's line of sight. Holding the wards together is taking all of his concentration, if he drops them without funneling the magic through us, the backlash could kill him."

"I'll be discreet. Go." Before Charlie could say anything Carlisle darted away, behind the greenhouses. He broke into a run, his first target in his sights.

Harry flexed his fingers around the frayed strands of magic and yanked them toward him, blocking a stray spell and ensnaring one of the death eaters circling the perimeter. Sweat soaked his hair and pooled along his spine, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold the wards and block spells. A death eater to the right dropped to the ground, though Harry couldn't be sure what spell had snared him.

"Just a little longer Harry." Charlie's voice sounded in his ear and a hand squeezed his shoulder. The wards pulled and strained, threatening to unravel.

"We've got to set them, Charlie. I can't hold them much longer."

"We only need another moment, Minerva is in position. So are Sprout and Kingsly. Vector and Sinistra are nearly there as well. You know how to release them? Protego!" Charlie shouted, blocking a nasty slashing curse.

"Yes." Harry forced through gritted teeth. "I'm losing them, Charlie. It has to be now." Harry stumbled, the leg he was using to brace himself crumpling under the strain. Only Charlie's quick support kept him on his knees. To his left, a flash of white, and another death eater dropped. "Now, Charlie, get back!"

Harry had less than a moment to hope that everyone was in place before he abruptly released the magic he was holding, sending it shooting out in a perfect sphere, his incantation directing it to the professors and aurors who could set it. The magic flared, arcing out and racing away, finally colliding with an invisible barrier. Harry watched from his knees as it strained and pulsed until it smoothed out into a perfect circle of blue-white. Thank Merlin, the professors had it. Harry had less than a moment to brace for the backlash before the flare of magic died, the remaining power rushing back toward him, then shooting through every limb of his body, igniting every nerve and stealing his breath. He was dimly aware as his trainers left the grassy earth, the vanishing magic picking him up, and then whooshing out of existence, dropping him six feet.

He hit the ground hard and rolled, wand automatically in his hand as he tried to force himself up. His arms and legs twitched in response to his demands, his bodies' strength completely leaving him. He lay there, cheek pressed to the muddy earth as spell-fire and shouting competed with the pounding in his head.

"Potter's down!"

Harry heard the shout and dimly registered the flashes of light before something hard and cold collided with him. Pain burst through his chest, clearing away the lingering confusion left by the magical backlash. He heaved a breath, terror coursing through him as fire arced across his ribs and air escaped him. Hands grasped him, turning him onto his back.

"Harry?"

Harry blinked, trying to will away the blackness encroaching on his vision. His chest felt tight. He gasped for air and chocked on his own coughs. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth and dribbled down his chin.

A cool hand slid over his forehead, then down to cup his cheek. "Harry, look at me son. It's all right, just look at me."

Harry tried to focus on the voice, to do as it asked. He searched wildly for the face, all the while choking on his own blood. A second hand grasped his other cheek and a familiar face appeared inches from his own.

"Dad?" Harry lifted a hand, curling his fingers into the shoulder hovering over him. A coughing fit stole away the rest of his words. This time he couldn't fight the darkness that swept across his mind.

"I've brought you a change of clothes."

Carlisle glanced up from the hospital bed where his son lay resting. "Thank you." He nodded at Charlie.

"They're mine, I hope you don't mind. I'd have brought you some of Harry's but you are a little taller than he is, and well, it's easier to shrink clothes than it is to expand them." Charlie dropped a folded shirt and pair of trousers on the chair in the corner. "Why don't you take a moment to shower and change? Madame Pomfrey said he likely won't wake until later this afternoon."

Carlisle curled his fingers around Harry's hand. Without the steady beep of the monitor to reassure him, he'd resorted to keeping his hand in Harry's and his forefinger pressed against his pulse. Faint, but steady. "Thank you, Charlie. But if it's all right with you, I'd prefer to wait with Harry for the time being."

"You saved his life, you know." Charlie remarked, easing on the foot of Harry's bed.

"Did I?"

"If you hadn't gotten to him, moved him out of the way of those curses, he'd be dead right now."

"I hurt him in the process. It's been a long time since I've had to reign in my strength in such a situation." His fingers fluttered over Harry's pulse, had there been a change? "I was so focused on getting to him before the spells could reach him that I completely misjudged my strength."

"He's alive because of you."

"He's alive because wizarding medicine is so advanced. I broke three of his ribs. One punctured his lung." Carlisle ran his free hand along Harry's arm, gently squeezing his shoulder. Watching his son drown in his own blood wasn't something he'd ever forget. Or forgive.

"You're making this very difficult for me."

Carlisle glanced up, searching Charlie's expression. "What's that?"

"I was prepared to hate your guts for leaving Harry alone. I'm finding it rather difficult to hold on to that."

Carlisle smiled softly. "You're anger is not undeserved, but I thank you all the same." Harry's fingers twitched against his palm and his heart beat quickened. "I think he's coming around."

Charlie stood and walked toward the head of the bed, reading the scans that were constantly updating themselves on the bedside table. "He shouldn't be. He should sleep several more hours…" Harry shifted, tossing his head to the side, his brow furrowing. "Then again, Harry never seems to react normally to the sleeping agents we give him."

"Harry?" Charlie whispered, his fingers splayed lightly against his chest. "Harry, you awake?"

Harry came awake with a gasp, green eyes wild as he tried to jolt into a sitting position.

"Easy. Calm down. You're in Hogwarts. Do you remember what happened?"

"Wards. Someone was attacking the wards." Harry coughed, but relaxed back into his pillow. "My chest hurts."

"That's my fault, I'm afraid." Carlisle said, gently squeezing Harry's hand.

Harry snapped his head around, eyes going wide. "I… I thought you weren't…"

"Real?" Carlisle supplied with an easy smile.

Harry's brow furrowed, and then he shot an accusatory look at Charlie. "What did you do?"

"Harry…" Charlie tried to interrupt.

"No!" Harry shook his head. "No. You shouldn't have bothered him. You… you shouldn't have bothered him," he repeated, dissolving into a coughing fit.

"Easy, Harry. Just try to relax, your lungs are a little raw and that has got to hurt your ribs." Charlie withdrew his wand and spelled the head of the bed to elevate Harry into a sitting position.

"Here." Carlisle grabbed the glass of water on the bedside table and held it to Harry's lips. "Try a few sips, see if that helps."

Harry sipped on the water, then relaxed back into the pillows with a sigh. Tired green eyes found and held amber ones. "I'm sorry…"

"Hush." Carlisle cut him off, running a hand through Harry's hair. "Hush, now. I owe Mr. Weasley a debt of gratitude. If not for him, I would have no idea that a son of mine," Carlisle put both hands on Harry's shoulders, "a most beloved son, thought his family had abandoned him."

Harry's mouth fell open and he shook his head. "I'm sorry," he blurted.

"Easy, my son. You've nothing to apologize for. This blame is mine. No, don't argue, just listen," Carlisle said as Harry opened his mouth to protest. "Though the circumstances are complicated, in the end, this error belongs to me. Yes," he said when Harry shook his head. "Yes it does. I am the parent, Harry. You are the child. It was my job to ensure that you were safe and happy. But we will work this out, if you are willing."

Carlisle ran his hand over his son's forehead, then down the side of his face and along his arm. "But right now you need to rest. You are not well." He said, stepping back from the bed.

Harry's fingers grasped his wrist before he could pull away. "Don't go." Carlisle saw the way Harry cringed, felt the way he jerked his hand away, as though he wished he could take the plea back. It was a moment of honesty, a moment of weakness. And though his son was ashamed of it, Carlisle could not bring himself to ignore it. He reached for the chair behind him, pulled it closer to the bed.

"Rest, Harry." Carlisle sat down, lacing his fingers through his son's. "Rest. I'll be here when you wake."


	5. Chapter 5

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

Thanks for all the reviews!

"Really, I feel fine." Harry protested as Carlisle pulled down the bed sheets. "I feel like I've slept for a week." He continued, a jaw popping yawn punctuating the statement. He'd managed to talk his way out of the hospital wing and out from under Pomfrey's dictatorship by promising to return to his quarters and rest, which after two full days in the hospital wing was exactly what he didn't want to do. "I could just relax in the sitting room, I promise not to leave the sofa."

Carlisle's amused expression told him he it wasn't an argument he was capable of winning.

Reluctantly, Harry dropped the towel he was rubbing against his damp hair and climbed in bed. "I really am fine," he said, stubbornly ignoring how good the mattress felt and how fluffy the pillows were.

Carlisle pulled the sheet up to his shoulder and pulled the curtains around the enchanted window, plunging the room into soft grays. "A little more rest won't hurt you. I'll wake you for dinner."

"What about you? Do you need to hunt?" Harry asked, anxiously sitting up in bed. "There's game in the forest, but it's not very safe. Is Charlie here? I'm sure he'd take you into a less magical area if I asked him to. Or maybe McGonagall could create a portkey for you."

"Harry, stop." Carlisle was at his side in an instant, pushing him gently back against the mattress. "You needn't worry about me. I fed the morning that Charlie came to see me, I'll be fine for several days."

"But uncomfortable," Harry countered. "I don't want you to be inconvenienced," he whispered.

"You, my son, are not an inconvenience." Carlisle corrected. "Now rest; or I'll have to call Madame Pomfrey."

Harry grimaced, then turned on his side, ignoring the way Carlisle's mouth twitched.

"That's what I thought. How about a compromise, you rest, I'll tell you a little about Forks."

The last thing Harry would remember before he dropped into sleep was Carlisle's soothing voice telling him that Forks was especially rainy.

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"I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come out of there," Charlie said, glancing up from the text book catalogue he was reading through.

"He's sleeping soundly for the moment, and I'll be able to hear him if he wakes. In honesty, I needed a little bit of space to process everything. My eyes kept running over his profile, over his jaw line, along his shoulders. In sleep I see a glimpse of the boy I knew. The man is taking a little getting used to."

Charlie marked the section he was reading then joined Carlisle in the living room. "I know what you mean," he said with a laugh. "Harry was fourteen the first time I met him, all gangly limbs, hands and feet to big for his frame. I didn't see him again until he was seventeen, nearly eighteen. The difference was staggering. I can't imagine what it must be like for you."

"Startling, to be certain. He was fifteen the last summer he spent with us…" Carlisle trailed off, casting his memory back to that summer. He'd sensed something wrong then, so much of his son's vibrancy, his innocence had faded. He'd convinced himself it was natural, that Harry was growing up. He'd contented himself with the knowledge that surely, Harry would come to him if he needed to. How wrong he'd been. "I supposed I've grown so accustomed to the fact that my other children don't age. Don't change. Silly, isn't it, that a part of me expected Harry to look like the boy who'd left us to return to school."

"Not really." Charlie shrugged. "I think it's easier to accept when you see it every day, I know that every Christmas, when I saw my youngest brother and sister that I was shocked at how much they'd changed. I guess it's just a family thing, you get a picture stuck in your mind of what a loved one looks like, of how they act, and though you know they're growing and changing, a part of you still expects the constancy of your memory."

"That's very true, Charlie." Carlisle could still remember Harry at seven, large green eyes set in a pale face and a body that had seemed tiny and fragile as glass. He doubted he'd ever forget that first meeting.

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April, 1988

Carlisle stared through the glass panes of the greenhouse, studying the little boy that was helping prepare small pots for planting. He stood on top of a stool, his baggy long sleeved shirt rolled up his skinny arms. Black hair stood out in every direction and a small smudge of dirt high on his cheek just below his glasses.

"Albus, I'm indebted to you, you know that. But surely there must be a better place for him."

"I won't risk placing him with a wizarding family, and he has no other relatives."

"I understand, but surely there must be someone, my family is hardly normal… what would we tell him. And Jasper… children get hurt Albus, what if he scrapes his knee? Jasper wouldn't mean to but he could seriously injure the boy before we could stop him."

"I suspect that your family is adept enough at assimilating that you wouldn't need to tell him anything until he was older. As to Jasper, your concerns are unnecessary. A simple suppressant, added to Harry's food would render his blood odorless and uninviting."

Carlisle, hesitated as Albus pulled open the door to the greenhouse. Though he owed the Headmaster his life, he would be asking a lot of his family. To take the boy in, it would seriously change things.

"Hello, Harry. Professor Sprout." The little boy jumped in surprise, stumbling off the stool and knocking down several of the pots he was working on.

"I'm sorry!" He squeaked, bending down and frantically scooping dirt into the unbroken pots. "I'll fix it!"

"Nonsense, Harry." Professor Sprout stepped forward, pulling her wand. A couple of quick flicks and an incantation and the pots were restored and back on the work table.

"Sorry." The little boy mumbled, rubbing his dirty hands against his jeans.

"That's alright, Harry. Accidents happen." Albus squatted, bringing himself eye level with the child, his heavy robes swirling through the dirt and debris of the greenhouse floor. "Harry, I'd like you to meet a very good friend of mine." He gestured behind him. "This is Carlisle Cullen, will you say hello?"

Harry jerked his head up and studied Carlisle from behind his fringe. "'Lo," he said quietly.

"Hello Harry." Carlisle took the opportunity to step forward and extend his hand, gratified when harry carefully took it in his own. "It's nice to meet you." He gently squeezed Harry's hand, observing the boy all the while. The bit of dirt he'd spotted on his cheek was actually the remainder of a bruise that had begun to yellow. And though Harry's height appeared to be average for his age, his shoulders and arms were far too skinny.

"Harry? Why don't we clean up back by the sinks, then go get lunch, eh?"

Harry stepped back until he was next to Professor Sprout and nodded. Carlisle couldn't help but notice that he didn't turn his back on them until he was out of reach.

Dumbledore sighed once Harry was out of earshot. "I'm afraid that if you won't take Harry in, I'm going to have to place him in a boy's home until he turns eleven. He's too young to stay at the school, and staying with another family is simply too dangerous."

"I understand," Carlisle murmured, watching the little boy at the end of the row carefully wash and dry his hands. He gave Professor Sprout a brilliant smile when she slipped a peppermint into his hand and thanked him for the help.

Carlisle knew then, that no matter what adjustments he'd have to make, he'd spend whatever time it took to have that smile turned on him.

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"Do you have any idea how long you plan to stay," Charlie asked, settling into an arm chair near the fire with a cup of tea.

"No. Though I can't stay too long, I don't want the rest of my family to worry."

"Are you leaving?" Harry asked, leaning against the door to his bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"No." Carlisle rose, folded the book he'd been reading over the arm of his chair, and guided Harry over to the sofa. "I believe Charlie kept a plate warm for you."

"I did, it's in the kitchen, I'll be right back."

"It's okay if you need to get back, I know you said that everyone else doesn't know where you've gone," Harry said, hand coming up to fiddle with chain around his neck, a habit Carlisle had witnessed a few times over the last two days. "And I know you must have work, and patients."

"I do have to go back eventually. But Harry, when I do go back, I was hoping that you'd join me."

"In Forks?" he asked, as though the thought hadn't ever occurred to him.

"Yes. We have a room for you, and the other children are out of school for the summer, I know they'd love to see you again. And Esme, of course," Carlisle added.

"That sounds nice," Charlie said as he placed a warm plate of chicken and roast potatoes in front of Harry. "The break would probably be good for you."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "But what about Kingsly and the other aurors, they keep pulling me into follow up work, I can't just abandon them."

Carlisle watched, perplexed as Charlie's face visibly reddened and he cracked his knuckles. "You aren't an auror, Harry. You don't have any obligation to them. And they shouldn't keep pulling you into cleaning up the mess. You've done your part, it's time for you to heal and start moving on with your life. They are more than capable of taking things from here."

"Is there something wrong with your health, Harry?" Carlisle asked, studying his son for any sign of ailment.

"No." Harry replied, just as Charlie said, 'yes.'

Carlisle watched as his son turned a steely look on Charlie, who only sighed and shook his head. "Alright, fine, you aren't sick, so far as we know," he added. "But you haven't given yourself enough time to recover, either. You died, Harry."

"You what?" Carlisle found himself sitting next to his son before he could think about it.

"Don't worry," Harry said with a smile, "it didn't take."

Carlisle thought about demanding a better answer, but the stubborn set of Harry's jaw told him he wouldn't get one. Not now. But he'd file away the conversation for a later date.

"You need some time away, Harry. Time to let your magic recharge and settle without being pulled into every problem Kingsly and his team come across. You need regular sleep, regular meals. You could do that in Forks," Charlie said.

Harry hesitated, fingers going back to the chain around his neck.

"Let's try it for the summer. Give you some time to rest and relax away from everything here, Charlie can join us if he'd like," Carlisle said, catching Charlie's eyes over Harry's head.

"That might be nice," Charlie agreed, nodding at Carlisle. "I'm just about done with my lesson plans, I could follow you in a couple of days. I don't have anything to worry about until term begins."

Carlisle inclined his head at Charlie, hoping his gratitude carried through the simple gesture. "You can come back whenever you need to, but for now, come home. I know the rest of the family would love to see you."

"They won't be angry I've been away so long?" Harry asked, pulling his head around to study Carlisle's face.

"Don't doubt that they've missed you, Harry. Once I've explained what happened, they'll just be glad you're home."

"I still can't believe Albus did that," Harry said, then added, "I would like to see everyone."

"Good, then I'll arrange for a flight home for the two of us, and Charlie can follow in a few days when he's ready."

"Do we have to fly? It takes so long."

"Madame Pomfrey said no apparating and portkeys, she doesn't want you to strain your magic."

"Alright."

"Very well. Then if you don't mind, I'm going to go see the Headmistress about arranging our travel, okay?"

Harry nodded, and watched Carlisle walk out the door. He waited nearly five minutes, just in case he came back before he turned to Charlie. "How much have you told him? About what happened, I mean."

"Only the basics, but Harry, I really think you should talk to him. Merlin knows, you need to talk to someone."

"I can't Charlie. I can't tell him. He doesn't need to know about," Harry paused, struggling with the words. "He doesn't need to know about those three weeks, and I don't want him to know about what happened after."

"Harry, he'd hardly blame you."

"No!" Harry said, cutting the air between them with a hand. "You don't know him. They way he's lived his life, his stance on killing, I won't tell him. Promise me, Charlie."

"Harry…"

"Promise me," Harry demanded. "Promise me you won't tell me family about the things I've done."

Charlie just sat there, mouth pressed into a thin line for a long time, before finally, "I promise."


	6. Chapter 6

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine. Also, if it's not obvious already, I'm bending timelines and altering facts to suit my whim.

Thanks for all the reviews!

"Good afternoon, Charlie," Carlisle said as Charlie walked into the living room.

"Hi. Harry around?" Charlie asked, glancing toward Harry's room.

"No. He said he needed to go to the bank, arrange for international access to his accounts."

"I'm surprised he didn't take you with him, show you around Diagon Alley."

"He offered but I declined, I was hoping I'd have the opportunity to talk to you for a few minutes." Carlisle watched as tension seized Charlie's shoulders. His head swung around, blue eyes searching Carlisle's expression. His lips firmed. Finally, he blew out a sigh.

"Let's take a walk. I've suddenly got a lot of energy to work through," Charlie said, heading for the door.

Carlisle didn't say anything until Charlie relaxed, his gait smoothing out into an easy stroll. As they approached the lake, he decided that the red head was as at ease as he was likely to get. "I have many questions, Charlie."

"I know," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I know that there are things Harry isn't saying, things he won't say. Not to me. I wouldn't ask you to betray his confidence, but I am asking, if you're willing, that you provide me a little guidance, give me some idea of what's occurred in the last several years."

Charlie kept his hands jammed in his pockets and his brow furrowed. "I'm in a very uncomfortable position here. On the one hand, I know how private Harry is, and I know how much he just wants to move on and pretend nothing's happened." Charlie stopped, toeing at the rocks that littered the shoreline. "On the other hand, I know that things don't stay buried, and that Harry needs more help and support than I can give him. I've been trying to decide for days what to tell you," Charlie admitted.

"Why don't you start with what you are comfortable with sharing. Perhaps things of public record? You said Harry defeated Voldemort only a few months ago? Albus told me he'd died in Harry's fifth year."

"I guess that's as good a place to start as any."

\ Carlisle forced himself to stay quiet as Charlie spoke, squashing the urge to ask any of the dozens of questions that came to mind until Charlie stopped talking and picked up a few of the beach pebbles at his feet.

"You're saying Harry lived on the run for more than two years, hunting down these artifacts? Was he alone?" Carlisle asked, rubbing at the place on his chest it felt like a knot had formed.

"He wasn't alone. My younger brother Ron and their friend Hermione were with him. They managed to find and destroy most of the horcrux, but then they got caught. Ron was seriously injured, his spinal cord severed. He couldn't keep up the constant moving, the constant travelling. Eventually, at Harry's insistence, he and Hermione left the country to seek advanced medical care."

"Has your brother recovered?"

"Yeah," Charlie said, a smile tugging at his lips for the first time in over an hour. "Harry found a great healer, threw Merlin knows how much money at him to take on a new patient, and now Ron is learning how to walk again. He and Hermione are getting married next year." The smile slipped from his face.

"After that I joined Harry on the hunt. We'd worked together before, gotten on well, and I promised Ron I wouldn't let him do it alone…"

"I'm grateful you were with him."

"Yeah," Charlie said noncommittally. "Anyway, we had two horcrux to go: Nagini, the Dark Lord's pet snake, and another Harry didn't talk much about. Getting close to Nagini was the difficult part, Harry and I planned that raid for months. We got in, got to the snake, but, well, I screwed up," Charlie said, tossing one of the stones in his hand. It skipped halfway across the lake and sank before he continued. "I screwed up and got caught. Harry refused to go without me, and…" Charlie trailed off, glancing at Carlisle out of the corner of his eye. "Three weeks later we got our opportunity, the Dark Lord returned from Italy, courting the Volturi we think, and Harry killed him."

"And the three weeks between?" Carlisle asked.

"I…" Charlie shrugged, "I don't think I need to be specific, I know Harry wouldn't want me to. We survived them, and in the end, Harry killed the bastard." He tossed another stone, watched it skip across the smooth water. "They were… difficult weeks, I still have dreams…" he paused, "they were worse for him," he whispered.

Carlisle clasped Charlie's shoulder. "I understand, I won't press. You said once before that Harry died, when did that happen?" He asked, redirecting the conversation.

"Turns out that Dumbledore, may the bastard rest in peace, told Harry when he was seventeen that the last horcrux was in his scar. Harry didn't tell anyone, he'd known for more than two years that he'd have to walk to his death, stare down the son of a bitch that murdered his parents and let the killing stroke fall." Charlie chucked the rest of the stones in his hand across the lake, and raked his hands through his hair. "When the Dark Lord returned from Italy, pulled Harry out of our cell, Harry just smiled at me, rolled his eyes. He walked out, straight to his own death, head high. I couldn't have done what he did."

"I'm not sure many could."

"Anyway, he died, but as he likes to say, 'it didn't take.' He got to come back; kill the Dark Lord. I know from the times he was drugged half out of his mind during our recovery that he saw Albus on the other side. And that his return trip came with strings. He won't tell me what they are," Charlie added.

"And his health, it's returned to normal?"

"Physically, he's fine. He tires easily but that would change if he took some time to himself." Charlie hesitated as though carefully weighing his next words. "I can speak from my own experience that the marks of those three weeks linger. Some more than others."

"I understand." It explained so much, everything from his son's exhaustion to the way he carried himself, more like a warrior and less like a young man. Carlisle wasn't used to seeing humans as formidable, wizard or no, but that's exactly how he saw Harry.

"Thank you, Charlie. I know this isn't something you wanted to discuss, but I really do appreciate it."

"I hope it helps Harry. He put a lot of faith in you," Charlie said, eyeing Carlisle carefully. "He talked about you, almost constantly, during those three weeks. Stories about Alaska and about your family. But you and his brother Edward, he talked about you the most. Whether you knew it or not, you were there, pulling him through." Charlie shrugged and gave a half laugh. "Hell, I guess I should thank you, because it was Harry who pulled me through," he said, turning away and walking back toward the castle.

Carlisle stood there, watching him until he disappeared up over the sloping lawns. So much to take in. So much to understand. He couldn't imagine, didn't want to imagine all that his son had suffered. He still had so many questions, questions he wasn't sure he wanted the answers to. He began the long walk back to the castle. He and Harry were scheduled to take the train into London in a few hours, and then board a plane from there. For now at least, the best he could do was focus on getting his son home and providing whatever support he could.

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Carlisle placed a soothing hand on Harry's knee, calming the rapid bounce in his leg. "Nervous?"

Harry pulled away, and picked his fork up again to push his mushy salad around. "Airplane food is disgusting," he said instead of answering.

"Why don't you relax, watch one of the movies playing. It's a long flight to Chicago."

"How long is our lay over?"

"An hour and a half. If we make our flight into Seattle we should be in Forks just after dinner time. It's going to be a long day, you could rest…" he trailed off under Harry's glare. "At least try and relax."

"Okay." Harry sat back, connected the headphones and started scrolling through the onboard movies.

Carlisle had to suppress a laugh. Harry's knee started bouncing again as he reached for the huge cookie on the dining tray. No matter how many years had passed or how much Harry had changed, he was pleased to note that some things at least, had remained the same.

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1988

He watched the boy pick at his food out of the corner of his eye. He supposed he couldn't blame him; the food they served on airplanes looked even more disgusting than traditional human food. At least he'd eaten the roll and some of the chicken.

"Not hungry, Harry?"

Harry jerked his shoulders and glanced at Carlisle from under his fringe. "No, Sir."

"Why don't you try the cookie, at least?" Carlisle asked, unwrapping the oatmeal chocolate chip cookie and handing it to Harry.

"Okay," he said, watching Carlisle carefully as he reached for it, as though he expected it to be withheld at the last minute.

"Good?" Carlisle asked as Harry began to devour the cookie.

"Yes, Sir."

One and two word responses were all he'd managed to coax from the boy so far, and always delivered with the Sir attached to them. Carlisle considered himself a patient man, so the urgent desire to gain this boy's trust, the adamant need he felt for Harry to relax, let his personality shine through, unsettled him a great deal.

"I think you'll like Alaska, Harry. We've got lots of space, a huge yard. You'll have your own room, with a great big window that overlooks the mountains. Sometimes in the spring the deer come right up onto the lawn to graze." He'd have to make sure he warned the rest of the family about feeding far enough away from the house, the last thing Harry needed was to see Emmett grab a midnight snack on their lawn. "And there will be school in the fall; yours will be right next to the school my other children attend."

Harry stared at him with large eyes, but didn't say anything. He never did, unless prompted. He finished his cookie and wiped his mouth against his sleeve. Carlisle reached for his own dinner tray, unwrapped his cookie, and handed it to Harry.

"Don't you want it?" He asked.

"I think you'll enjoy it more," Carlisle pushed it into Harry's hand, then picked up his tray to hand off to the flight attendant coming up the rows. When he turned back, half the cookie sat on the edge of his tray table. He glanced at Harry, who'd curled up in his seat, watching him with large green eyes. From everything the headmaster had told him, Carlisle suspected that the small gesture of sharing food was a huge deal to Harry.

"Thank you," he said, taking a big bite. Harry's small smile sweetened the taste of sawdust in his mouth.

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Harry ignored the drizzle that slid down his neck and beneath his shirt as he craned his neck to get a good look at the house while his father paid for the car they'd hired in Seattle. "Wow."

The house was huge, and modern, all sharp angles and modern materials. The complete opposite of the house in Alaska.

"Esme and I thought we'd try something a little different this time," Carlisle said stepping up next to him and waving off the driver. "It's taken some getting used to, but we've settled in. Your room has floor to ceiling windows. I think you'll like it." He led Harry up the front steps, suitcase in one hand, his other on Harry's shoulder. "You ready to see everyone?"

Harry's stomach rolled then dove to the soles of his feet. "I thought everyone was in South America?" He asked, trying to will his heart to stop slamming against his ribs.

"They're back. I can hear them." Carlisle pushed open the door, gesturing Harry to follow him. "It'll be fine."

Harry followed him through the long hallway, barely aware of the house as he passed through it. He felt like he had tunnel vision, all he could seem to focus on was the back of Carlisle's jacket.

"Carlisle, thank goodness," Esme's voice filtered past the buzzing in his ears. "We were wondering what had happened, Alice saw you had a change of plans, but not what they were…"

"I apologize, my dear. But I've brought someone with me to make up for it."

Harry felt Carlisle reach for him and allowed himself to be pulled around to stand next to him. In that moment he'd have sworn that the only thing keeping him from flying into a million little pieces was Carlisle's cool hand resting on his shoulder.

"Harry?"

Harry forced himself to focus, look past Carlisle and acknowledge the family scattered throughout the living room.

"Hi."


	7. Chapter 7

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

Thanks for all the reviews!

"_Harry?"_

_Harry forced himself to focus, look past Carlisle and acknowledge the family scattered throughout the living room._

"_Hi."_

The word had barely crossed his lips before Esme's arms were wrapped around him, her face pressed to his neck. Had he grown that much? That now her head fit beneath his chin? He allowed his arms to fall around her waist and his cheek to rest against her head.

"Let me look at you," she said, her voice hoarse. She pushed him back and ran a critical eye over him. "You look thin. Are you hungry? I'll go to the store in the morning, but I'm sure I've got something here… or I could call for a pizza?"

"I ate in Seattle." When she didn't look mollified, he continued. "Really, I got a burger and fries. I'm fine."

"My baby."

He might have blushed but for the way air whooshed out of him and his circulation ceased as she pulled him close again.

"Can you stay a while?" She asked, stepping away and straightening her blouse.

"Yeah."

"Well then. I'm going to go make sure there are fresh linens in your room. I'm sure you're tired." She flitted past him and was down the hall before Harry could protest. When he turned back to the living room, Emmett was standing directly in front of him.

"You're not my brother," he said, face grim.

The world began to spin and Harry's heart resumed the beating it was laying against his ribs.

"Emmett!" Jasper interrupted, "Don't be an idiot."

"What?" Emmett asked, running a critical eye over Harry. "This is not my brother. My brother's a scrawny little thing, 5'5", a hundred pounds soaking wet. This imposter could pass for a man. Just look at him," he exclaimed, poking Harry in the chest and squeezing his arm. "He's as tall as Carlisle, and he's got muscle! Definitely not the runt. I vote we eat him."

Harry pushed Emmett's hand away and rolled his eyes. "I'm nearly twenty-one, Em. What did you expect?"

"That you'd never change," he whispered, sweeping him into a bear hug.

"Can't. Breath." Harry choked. He couldn't quite manage to hide the wince when Emmett put him down; his ribs were still a little tender. "Still not as tall as you," he said when he could form words again.

"Thank God! Then I'd really have to eat you."

"Move over," Rosalie pushed Emmett aside, "I suppose this means you're going to keep him up late playing video games?"

Harry glanced over her shoulder where Emmett was nodding enthusiastically. "Er, I guess. Occasionally."

Rosalie gave a dramatic sigh and pulled him into a hug. "Just let him win every now and then, okay? He's unattractive when he sulks," she whispered into his ear.

"Promise."

She'd barely stepped away before Harry had an armful of Alice. "Merlin, you're tiny," Harry said, genuinely surprised to realize just how small she was and how big he was.

"Yeah. Yeah," she said, "I'm completely outnumbered." She rolled her eyes. "I'm glad your back, Emmett and Jasper have been cheating at baseball."

"Lies, Harry," Jasper said, pulling him into a brief hug. "Glad your home."

Harry shot Jasper a grateful smile, he wasn't sure how much he'd influenced his mood, but he appreciated it all the same. Between Jasper's influence and his family's welcome he was riding high. He hadn't felt this good or this calm in years. And now Edward was walking toward him. Edward, whose letters had been the most frequent, and the most missed. Edward, whose piano melodies had kept him company on the run. Edward, whose voice had held him steady during the darkest moments of his three week captivity.

Edward.

Harry couldn't help but hold his breath and shore up his occlumency shields as he approached. He hadn't been able to get more than fleeting images from Harry since he was fourteen, but still.

"Welcome home," he said, laying a cold hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze before disappearing down the hall.

The cool spot where Edward had touched him seemed to expand, spreading across his shoulders and down his spine, stealing the joy and warmth the rest of the family had instilled. That was it? Welcome home? Harry couldn't fight the disappointment, of all the Cullens he considered himself closest to Edward… he'd just expected, well, more.

"So, where you been shrimp?" Emmett asked, pulling him toward the couch.

"I think," Carlisle interrupted, "that may be a story for tomorrow. It's been an extremely long day. Why don't you give your brother time to settle in?"

"Fine," Emmett sighed, turning on the TV. "Bet there's a game on."

Harry smiled a little despite himself. Typical Emmett, he just took things in stride.

"Home tour tonight? Or would you rather just get settled into your room and worry about that tomorrow."

"I'm tired," Harry admitted. He felt like all the energy, all the nervous adrenaline that had been keeping him on the edge of his seat had fled. Exhaustion had quickly replaced it. Every step he took following Carlisle down a hall of windows seemed more difficult than the last.

"Here we are," Carlisle said, stepping back to allow Harry into his room. "You and Edward are in this wing of the house, he's just down the hall on the right, and the music room sits between you."

Harry hmm'd an acknowledgment and surveyed the room. He'd expected a guest room, or a room full of his boxes, but not this. This felt like home. Floor to ceiling windows and a giant skylight filtered in the moonlight. The quilt Rosalie had made for him during one of her crafty periods lay over the back of an arm chair he recognized as his favorite from Carlisle's old study. The photo Alice had snapped of him as an eight year old, asleep at the piano bench, his head resting on Edward's shoulder sat on a bookshelf stocked with old favorites and new ones he didn't recognize. They'd maintained this room, all these years. For him.

"I stocked the bathroom with fresh towels, just make a list of anything missing, I can pick it up in town tomorrow. Or you could come with me," Esme said, emerging from the bathroom. "If you want to," she added softly.

He didn't deserve them. "That sounds good."

"Sleep well, sweetie," she hugged him briefly and disappeared out the door.

"Do you need anything?" Carlisle asked, moving to follow his wife.

Harry glanced around, then grinned at Carlisle. "Bed?" He asked, surveying the room again. Harry followed the finger Carlisle held up. The ceiling went up at least twenty feet and midway up a loft jutted out from the wall.

"I guess you're a little old for bunk beds, but Edward thought you'd like it, so we added it as a design element. The outer edge of the bookcase serves as a ladder.

Harry glanced back at the bookcase, for the first time noticing that the outer shelves along the edge were shallow and empty.

"We can get you a real bed tomorrow, if you'd rather."

"It's great, really." Magnificent and thoughtful. He'd loved high, secret places when he was a kid. That they'd created something like that, especially for him touched him deeply.

"Sleep well, son."

Harry toed off his trainers and shucked his jeans the moment Carlisle left, climbed up the bookcase and fell, exhausted, into bed.

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Carlisle turned off the TV, ignoring Emmett's protest.

"I wanted to talk to you all." The family had slowly filtered back into the living room, and now that Carlisle was certain Harry was asleep, he wanted to get this conversation out of the way.

"Is something wrong?" Esme asked, taking a seat next to Alice.

"No. But I'm sure you all have questions, I ask only that you let me explain first, and ask your questions at the end."

Carlisle moved to any empty spot of the sofa and explained about Dumbledore, the letters and Charlie's visit.

"He truly thought we'd left him behind," Esme asked, gaze following the hallway that led to Harry's room. "That we could so easily forget him?"

"We assumed the same of him," Carlisle said, threading his fingers through hers.

"I guess that explains a lot of his anxiety when he walked through the door," Jasper said.

"Yes, I suspect he'll need some reassurance over the next several days. To that end, I've invited Charlie Weasley to come spend the summer with us," Carlisle held up a hand when Rosalie opened her mouth to object and Edward moved away from where he was leaning against the mantle. "He's been a very good friend to Harry. And unfortunately, for now at least, he understands Harry better than we do. He's agreed to take the same suppressant Harry does, he'll be our guest for as long as necessary."

"I'll make sure the guestroom is made up appropriately. There's one down the hall from Edward," Esme caught Carlisle's glance and squeezed his hand. "Rosalie, Alice, would you help me?"

Rosalie opened her mouth to protest but a warning glance from Esme and she snapped it shut and heaved herself off the sofa. "It's not like he'll be her tomorrow," she complained but followed her and Alice out of the room.

"I'd like to talk to the three of you. Privately." Carlisle stood and made his way out the front door and across the lawn, Edward, Jasper and Emmett following close behind. When they were finally out of earshot of the house he conveyed most of what Charlie had told him at the lake.

"Two years on the run?" Emmett asked. "Surely he must have known we'd have gone with him?"

"Deep down I think he knows that," Carlisle said.

"Which is why he didn't try harder to contact us, he didn't want us involved, he didn't want us hurt."

Carlisle nodded at Jasper. "Yes. Whether he's truly aware of that or not, I don't know. But I believe he was trying to keep our family out of the war. From Charlie told me, he's lost a lot of people dear to him over the last several years. I didn't want to tell the girls, they'd only make him uncomfortable."

"So why tell us?" Edward asked.

"Because you three can do the most to help him. He needs to fall into normal patterns here, fall back into everyday life, Emmett, I think you can help with that."

"Sure."

"Jasper, there is going to be times he'll need you. For now, I think it's best if we don't press him too much, I'm relying on you to support him in as unobtrusive way as possible. You know your brother, he's terribly self conscious, even around us. He wouldn't want us to know he's suffering."

"I understand."

"Edward," Carlisle said, waiting for Edward to meet his gaze. "You know him best, you're the closest to him. When he does start to open up, I ask only that you be there for him."

Edward studied him for a long moment and Carlisle began to wonder what was troubling him. But Edward ignored the silent question and simply inclined his head.

There were headed back to the house, Emmet and Edward nearly to the door, when Jasper asked, "there's three weeks of your account missing."

"There are," Carlisle agreed.

"How bad?"

"He will need you," was all he could bring himself to say in response.


	8. Chapter 8

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine. Also, no promises for an update tomorrow. I'm pulling extremely long days at work and may not get a chance to write.

_Thanks for all the reviews!_

The rain against the skylights provided soothing, ambient noise and the moonlight filtering into the room painted the still unfamiliar space in soft blues and grays. The lack of snoring dormmates and the comfort of a real bed, (he'd had to make do with an expandable cot on the run), made this the most comfortable placed Harry'd been in a long time. He supposed his bedroom in the suite of rooms he'd shared with Charlie had been comfortable enough, but impersonal. He'd never wanted to spend time there and he had never felt welcomed by it at the end of the day. His bedroom in Forks was all of that.

_So why am I having so much trouble sleeping?_

Harry rolled onto his back and watched the rain slip down the glass of the skylight. For lack of a better idea he measured his breathing, concentrating on nothing else but the sound of his breath and the beat of his heart until his body melded bonelessly against the mattress.

Still wide awake he gave in and allowed his mind to run in circles, hoping it'd wear itself out.

He'd been home for four days and every night, except the first, he'd lay here awake, finally falling asleep near dawn then waking again just after breakfast. It would have been less frustrating had he not found himself napping during the day like a small child. He'd survived on this much sleep for longer periods in the past. He just couldn't seem to now.

On the plus side, he hadn't had a nightmare. Yet. On the down side, it probably wouldn't have mattered if he had. A few years ago the thought of waking the entire house with one of his dreams would have been enough to keep him up at night. It would have upset Carlisle and Esme, Jasper would have felt compelled to try and calm him down, and Harry wasn't sure how good his occlumency was in the transition between sleep and wakefulness so he'd have worried about what Edward might have glimpsed. Not so much an issue now. If there was any one branch of magic he'd gotten good at manipulating over the last couple of years, it was silencing charms. He'd figured out the second night home how to cast a localized silencing charm around himself that allowed sound in _and _let vital signs out. His family would definitely feel compelled to check on him if they suddenly couldn't hear his heartbeat or the sound of his breathing as they passed his room. So that wasn't what was keeping him up.

Harry let his eyes fall shut.

_Who am I kidding? I know what's keeping me up._

Falling back into the pattern of life with his family had been easier than he'd thought it'd be. He weathered Esme's mothering which he didn't expect to let up any time soon. He played video games with Emmett; let him win occasionally for Rosalie. He watched movies with Jasper and Alice; he didn't even complain when she ruined the endings. And every day he spent a few hours reading in the study while Carlisle sorted through paperwork. In all that time, he'd seen Edward twice.

The family was quick to make excuses for him. He was hunting. Volunteering as a tutor over the summer. Driving. Composing. On and on until the words were just a distant, hollow echo.

What no one was willing to admit, and what Harry knew beyond a doubt, was that Edward was avoiding him.

_Well, most of the time. _

Right on schedule, the door to his bedroom whispered open. If he held true to his pattern, his visitor would remain in the corner, between the door and the bathroom wall, well away from the windows and the skylight. At first Harry had thought it was Esme, she'd checked on him a lot when he was a kid. Or Carlisle, who'd made an extra effort to be available lately. But as the nights dragged on his heart had acknowledged what his mind had avoided. The only time Edward could stand to be around him was when he thought he was lost to sleep.

_Well, no more._

"There's a chair you know. More comfortable than the corner," Harry said quietly.

Nothing. Just the soothing sound of rain on glass.

"Are you really just going to stand there in the dark not breathing?"

No answer. Just the vague sensation of something watching him in the nothingness. But he knew Edward was there. Knew it down to his bones. The three weeks he'd spent as Voldemort's guest had heightened certain skill sets. Sensing when he wasn't alone in the dark was one of them. Surprising him in the dark had been one of his tormentors' favorite games. But he'd always known when they were there, always sensed them. And they'd been strangers to him. This was Edward.

It turned his stomach that he'd drawn any sort of parallel between Edward and those men.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, throat tight. He refused to voice the, 'are you mad at me?' He wasn't a little boy anymore.

No answer. Just the quiet snick of his door and the gentle tap of rain on glass.

When he finally fell asleep, silent apparitions plagued his dreams.

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It took a long time before Harry fell asleep again. Edward had been surprised to realize he'd been awake when he'd entered the room. Even more surprised when Harry'd spoken to him, tried to force him to admit he was there. He hadn't of course, hard to speak when you're holding your breath. He hadn't been able to stand it, standing in the corner, holding his breath while Harry spoke to him. He'd had to leave. So now here he was, laying against the top of the roof next to the skylight to Harry's room, listening to his breathing even out as he finally slipped into sleep.

He should probably have stayed inside, or gone hunting, or gone for a drive. Any of the things he did during the day to distract himself. Instead, he'd crawled out here, next to Harry's skylight, and allowed the rain to soak his clothes and plaster his hair to his face and neck.

_It's safer this way. And easier._

His relationship with Harry had always been complicated, always careful. But it had never been painful. Not until now.

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_1988_

Edward watched the little human out of the corner of his eye and decided that he was, quite simply, odd.

First, there was the suppressant that Carlisle said the headmaster had mixed into his toothpaste. He'd been in their home for nearly three weeks and Edward still couldn't get used to it. The lack of burn, the lack of thirst. It was altogether unsettling. Like looking at sandpaper and touching it only to realize it was fine silk. It twisted the mind. Harry was completely odorless to him, unpalatable in every way. He was hardly complaining, it was just strange.

Then there were the little boy's mannerisms, his way of interacting with the family. He avoided Emmett, but tolerated Jasper. He didn't seem to know what to think of Alice, but seemed to quietly understand Rosalie. He'd charmed Esme of course, though if he knew it or not Edward wasn't sure. And he always had a quiet, sweet smile for Carlisle, Edward had caught him reading in his study several times before Carlisle had returned home from the hospital. And he was always quiet. Always watchful.

Edward watched Harry climb up on a chair in the kitchen, watching as Esme made breakfast. In Edward's experience he was uncommonly quiet for a human child. He rarely spoke unless spoken to, he didn't ask thousands of questions, and he never complained that he was bored. It was bizarre. His thoughts were quiet too. He could hear them, but only surface level thoughts, never the trailing thoughts that followed them. Most of the time when he tuned into someone he heard not only the thought going through their head, but also what had formed it, what agenda pushed it, what completed it. For Harry, he had no such reference. Whatever drove his conscious thoughts and decisions was just beyond his reach. It was sort of like trying to focus on Alice as she ran passed him He'd know without a doubt it was her, but not necessarily what she wore, what color her shoes were, or how she'd styled her hair. It was, frustrating. Especially because Harry seemed to defy normal in every way.

Most of the time Edward spent around humans was exhausting. Their thoughts leapt out at him, and they almost always came down to the same things. I want this. I love him. I need that. I hate her. I, I, I, I. He wondered if people had any idea how self centered they really were. But with Harry it was rarely like that. His thoughts were simpler, more straight forward. Hungry. Tired. Frightened. Basic needs. Rare was the time Harry actually thought about wanting something.

Occasionally he'd think about wanting an extra serving at dinner, or he'd want six o'clock to come faster so that Carlisle would be home. That those were the most selfish thoughts in his head bothered Edward. Weren't children supposed to want things? Esme had taken him into town, tried to buy him books, toys and clothes, but Harry had been too silent to say anything. Edward had been able to guess from some of the observations the boy made which toys he preferred. They'd bought those, of course. But with the exception of the coloring and reading books he kept in Carlisle's office, and the stuffed bear he slept with, he'd put all of the things on the shelf in his room. And either he was the neatest seven year old on the planet, or he hadn't touched them again.

So he watched him, trying to determine what to make of this human child, his little brother.

"Ready for breakfast, Harry?" Esme asked, apron pulled snug around her waist. She placed a plate of muffins on the counter in front of and poured him a glass of milk. "Banana chocolate chip," she said, gesturing for him to help himself. "But I think maybe the chocolate melted. They're awfully dark."

"Thank you," he said completely sincere as he took a muffin and pulled his glass of milk toward him.

"Esme, you can't give him those," Edward laughed. "The chocolate didn't melt. They're burned. Look," he said, taking one of the muffins off the plate and tapping it against the counter. "They've gone hard."

"They're good!" Harry exclaimed, little shoulders hunched, muffin clutched close. His eyes flashed angrily even as his lower lip trembled.

Edward's smile slipped from his face. The little boy had been so careful to avoid confrontation over the last several weeks that he'd chose now to speak up baffled him. It was just a muffin.

"Oh, Harry, honey, you don't have to eat those. You can have cereal again," Esme said, reaching for the plate.

Then, for the first time, as Harry's eyes bored into his, his thoughts came through loud and clear.

_She tried. You'll hurt her feelings._

"Look," he said, breaking off the top of the muffin. "They're still good. On the inside."

"Are you sure? I can do eggs, you liked my eggs."

"Nope. The muffins are good." He broke the top off another one and handed it to Edward, expression equal parts demand and plea.

"Oh, honey, Edward doesn't really like muffins."

"No," he agreed, pulling up a chair next to Harry. "But these look good." He took the topless muffin and bit into it under Harry's watchful gaze. When he smiled at him, nodding in approval, Edward forced himself to chew.

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Sitting in the pouring rain Edward could almost taste those muffins again. Dirt and compost. He'd had three. But anyone who could defend Esme like that was worth defending in turn. As it turned out, he'd eaten a lot of Esme's food over the next year and half. He didn't regret any of it.

Edward glanced though the skylight when he noticed Harry's breathing pick up.

_He's dreaming. _

He could tell by the way Harry's brow furrowed and his fists clenched the sheets that it wasn't a pleasant dream.

He forced himself to back away from the window and climb off the roof.

_If it gets bad enough, Jasper will notice. Calm him down._

Edward pushed himself into a run, darting into the forest that surrounded the house. Harry wasn't seven anymore. He'd managed just fine without for years now. There was no reason that shouldn't continue.

_It has to._


	9. Chapter 9

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

"Look what I found," Carlisle said walking down the hall and shrugging out of his trench coat.

"Charlie!" Harry greeted. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up."

Harry turned off the game he was currently killing Emmett at and jumped off the sofa.

"Hey!"

"What, you were losing anyway," Harry said over his shoulder. "I expected you a few days ago," he said to Charlie.

"I know. But we had to make sure the wards were settled, then we had a couple of staff meetings and I had to finish up my lesson plans for first term. But I made it."

"Yeah," Harry grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the living room. "Come on, I'll introduce you."

"Excuse me," Carlisle said, ducking into the hall to answer his phone.

"Charlie, this is Emmett and Jasper," Harry said, pointing to the sofa where Jasper had taken his place next to Emmett.

"What's up," Emmett said, eyes never leaving the TV.

"Don't be rude," Esme said as she walked into the room, smacking the back of Emmett's head with the magazine she'd been reading. "Get up and greet our guest properly."

"Hello, Charlie, I'm Esme."

"It's very nice to meet you, thank you for having me."

"Your mom's not here you know," Harry whispered, grin crooking his lips, "no one but her would buy this polite act you've got going on."

"Shush, you," Charlie said, pinching the back of his arm.

"Carlisle, you've met," Harry continued, "and the rest of the family is out right now. Alice and Rosalie are shopping, and Edward…" Harry paused; he didn't know where Edward was.

_So what else is new?_

"I'm going to have to go back into town," Carlisle said, tucking his phone into his jacket. "Something's come up."

"Can we get a ride with you?" Harry asked, "Charlie and I can grab dinner while you're at work, then catch a ride back. Give Esme a break in the kitchen," he said, tossing a grateful smile her direction.

"I may be quite a while; I don't want to strand you."

"We can apparate back, don't worry about it."

Carlisle's gaze narrowed on his face, no doubt catching the trace of the bags under his eyes. Glamours just didn't work the same around vampires, it was unfair.

"You're not supposed to be straining your magic."

"It's been more than a week, I'm fine. Honest."

"You still aren't sleeping well, Harry. I just want you to take it easy."

Conscious of the audience Harry counted back from ten and ran his hands through his hair. He understood the concern, appreciated it even, but he hadn't done so much as a summoning spell since he'd arrived. His magic was starting to thrum and itch beneath his skin.

"He should be fine to apparate, he really only needed to rest his magic for three or four days, it's been more than a week," Charlie spoke up.

"Very well, but take Emmett's phone," Carlisle said. Harry snatched the phone Emmett tossed out of the air before Carlisle could and slipped it into his pocket.

"Nice catch!" Emmett acknowledged, sounding genuinely surprised.

"You don't tell them enough," Charlie whispered in his ear, earning an elbow for his trouble.

"Take Emmett's phone," Carlisle repeated, "and call me when you are ready, no sense apparating unnecessarily."

"Okay."

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"Well, you seem okay," Charlie remarked, relaxing into the diner booth.

Harry pushed the rest of his peach cobbler around his plate, "yeah, it's been good being here."

"But?"

"No but, it's been great, really."

"You're a terrible liar, Harry. And you know I can always tell when you're using glamours. Circles under your eyes? I'd have thought you'd been sleeping better out here. Uninterrupted, at least."

"I am," Harry said sullenly.

"Uh-huh. Liar. And give me that," Charlie said, yanking the mangled cobbler away from him. "No sense this going to waste."

"You're worse than Ron."

"And you're dodging the question, start talking," Charlie said, digging into the cobbler.

"Nothing to say, really," Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I forget how slowly things change for, well for them," he amended, considering the public location. "In a lot of ways, it feels like I haven't been gone long at all, things are just the same as they always were."

"So they weren't mad?" Charlie asked around a mouthful.

"No. Well, not most of them," Harry blew out a breath and gave voice to his fears. "Edward is, I think."

"Edward?" Charlie asked, pushing his plate away. "I thought you two were really close?"

Yeah, me too…" Harry trailed off, glancing out the window. "Want to go for a walk?"

"Sure."

They settled their tab and walked out the door. They were three blocks away before Harry organized he thoughts enough to voice them. "He's avoiding me."

"Edward?"

"Yeah."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah. I've caught him in my room twice at night now, just standing in the darkened corner not breathing. He won't acknowledge me. Won't answer me," Harry kicked a stone across the sidewalk. "I guess he's angry."

"You guess?"

"Well he won't bloody well tell me!"

Charlie stopped and pulled Harry around. "Why should he be angry when the rest of your family isn't?"

"I don't know," Harry said, grinding his teeth.

"And you're content to let it lie? That's not like you."

"You think I should confront him about it?"

"Yeah. If it's bothering you this much," Charlie said.

"But, I can't force him to stay and listen."

"So use a sticking charm, or a wheeze's product. But do _something _Harry. It's bothering you, and you are allowed to ask him why he's acting like a prick."

"Yeah?" Harry asked with a grin. He honestly hadn't considered confronting Edward about what was going on, let alone considered using magic to get him to stand still long enough to try. It was worth thinking aboutl.

"Yeah. So," Charlie changed the subject, "tell me more about your family."

"I've told you tons about them, what do you want to know?"

"Hmmmm. How about when you first learned about their… affliction… what was that like?"

"Affliction?" Harry laughed. "You make it sound like an ailment. They're vampires, Charlie. It's okay to say it."

"Okay, fine," he huffed. "When did you find out they were vampires. I can't imagine they told you when you were seven."

"No. I found out by accident when I was eight."

"Uh oh. I can't imagine that went over well."

"Well, between finding out my family drank blood, the broken arm, and the grizzly bear, I was pretty freaked."

Charlie choked, "the grizzly bear?"

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"Don't go too far, runt!" Emmett called as Harry picked his way up the river bank, looking for the items on his check list for his science habitat project. Just a few more things and he'd be done.

He rounded the bend in the river where Emmett and Edward had brought him to collect the pieces for his project. Now if he could just find the perfect river stone…

A flash of silver at the water's edge caught his eye. Fish! Great big fish swimming against the current.

"Cool." Harry whispered to himself, squatting at the water's edge to get a better look. The sound of someone kicking around the rocks and a deep snort sounded behind him. "Emmett…" Harry sighed, "I know it's you." When he didn't respond but the snort grew closer, accompanied by a growl, Harry whirled around, rolling his eyes. "Em…"

His scream was drowned out by the roar of the grizzly. The huge animal loomed before him, not six feet away, teeth bared, nose testing the air. Harry stumbled back, falling into the frigid water. The moment he was down the bear lunged forward, jaws wide. Harry watched, horrified, as Edward collided with the bear, throwing him to the ground. "No!"

"Come on, Harry. Let's get you out of here." Emmett was beside him, pulling him out of the water by his arm pits. Where had he come from? Harry didn't care, he jerked away from him and turned back toward Edward, watching terrified as he wrestled with the grizzly.

"Edward!" Harry made to lunge forward, but strong arms snared him around the waist and pulled him back.

"Don't fight me, Harry. Edward's okay."

Harry continued to struggle against Emmett's hold, his eyes seeking Edward. Edward who had his teeth locked around the bear's throat. The world tilted crazily for a moment and Harry cried out, slumped to the side, and slid out of Emmett's grip. An eternity passed and Edward glanced up at him, teeth bared, face soaked in blood. The grizzly didn't move.

Harry stumbled forward several steps and emptied the contents of his stomach into the water swirling around his ankles. Edward was by his side in an instant.

"It's okay, Harry…" Edward's cool hand brushed the hair off his forehead.

Harry leapt way, stumbling sideways and drenching himself again. "I…" he looked at Edward, face still covered in blood, eye's wide and black. "I have to go!" He blurted.

"Harry…" Edward said, hand extended. The moment he stepped toward him Harry panicked, turned to run, and with a crack like thunder felt himself get sucked away.

A second later he fell through the air, hitting the ground hard, his arm snapping beneath him.

He lay there for a long time, face pressed to the grass, breathing in the scent of the forest, trying not to cry. He rolled to his side, cradling his arm to his chest.

_I know this place._

Edward brought him here, less than a mile from the house to play sometimes. Just behind him was a great big tree that had been hollowed out forever ago. HE rolled to his knees and willed away the vomit that tried to surge up throat at the pain. He dragged himself toward his tree and curled up inside it. Pulling his shivering limbs close to his chest he gave into the tears threatening to fall.

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"You must have been so freaked out," Charlie said. "What happened after that?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but the lights of the police cruiser in the parking lot up ahead caught his eye. "That's Carlisle's car," he said, darting up the street. "Let's see what happened."

As he and Charlie approached, Carlisle ducked under the police line, "it's alright Chief Swan, they're with me."

"You done with the body, Dr. Cullen?"

"Yes. They can go ahead and take him to the morgue," Carlisle said. "Let's go home."

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Animal attack," Carlisle said, tone flat and eyes glancing toward the police milling about. "I'll tell you more when we get home."

Harry knew he wasn't going to like what he had to say.


	10. Chapter 10

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

"_You done with the body, Dr. Cullen?"_

_ "Yes. They can go ahead and take him to the morgue," Carlisle said. "Let's go home."_

_ "What's going on?" Harry asked._

_ "Animal attack," Carlisle said, tone flat and eyes glancing toward the police milling about. "I'll tell you more when we get home."_

_ Harry knew he wasn't going to like what he had to say._

"Dr. Cullen, before you go, could you give your official statement to my deputy?" Chief Swan asked, nodding toward a young man standing off to the side.

"I won't be able to give a full statement without a full autopsy, Chief Swan. Perhaps this is better left until then."

Harry tuned out his father and the chief of police, watching as an ambulance arrived and two paramedics pulled out a stretcher. He glanced over; his father was walking with the chief toward the deputy. Harry fingered his wand in his sleeve and discreetly cast a notice-me-not charm over himself. Skirting past the gawkers and around the police he quietly followed the paramedics around the building, a bait shop he now realized, and down the rickety pier to a dozen boat slips.

Harry stepped cautiously around the paramedics and peered into the third slip on the right.

"Jesus Christ, Martin. An animal did this?"

Martin didn't reply; he was too busy heaving the contents of his stomach into the water.

Harry couldn't blame him, his own stomach turned violently. The dead man's eyes stared vacantly up at him from his prone position against the back of the boat, his face twisted with pain. Bloody handprints marked where he'd tried to escape; it was clear from their locations that he'd been toyed with. Allowed to crawl away only to be pulled back. His clothes hung off him, shredded and torn, exposing gaping wounds where claws had torn flesh from bone.

"Pull it together, Martin. Come help me," the paramedic said, jumping into the gently rocking boat and pulling the body bag on after him. Martin wiped his mouth with a shaky hand, averted his eyes, and followed.

Harry watched, disgusted as they loaded the body into the bag. He'd seen death before, seen it enacted in horrific and brutal ways. But he'd hoped he'd never see this level of cruelty, this level of brutality again. He'd come to accept death and murder and violence. But torture still unsettled him, disturbed him in a way he didn't think he'd ever grow accustomed to.

_I hope I never do. Especially after…_

He forced his thoughts off that track and back into the present.

"Count his fingers, Martin. I don't want to get all the way down to the morgue just to have to come back for pieces we've missed."

Harry glanced at the victim's hands, noting for the first time that several fingers had been severed.

_Bitten off. No doubt while he was still alive._

"Got 'em," Martin said, "all ten. Now let's get out of here and let the forensics and clean up teams do their jobs," he said zipping the body bag closed.

Stomach sour, Harry headed back up the dock and around the building, dropping the notice-me-not charm once he was on the other side of the police line.

"There you are, care to tell me where you slipped off to?" Charlie asked.

Harry caught the jerk of Carlisle's head and the quick glance he slid toward Harry. A line appeared between his brows and he frowned.

"Nowhere," Harry said, pulling the collar of his jacket up around his neck to keep the steady drizzle from sliding down his neck. "Let's wait in the car, yeah?" Harry asked, stuffing his shaky hands into his pockets. He walked off toward Carlisle's car, Charlie following silently behind him.

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"There are other vampires in Forks," Carlisle said once his entire family was once again assembled in the living room.

Charlie watched, fascinated by the family dynamic. Coming from a large family, most of the Cullen's family habits, the noise, the teasing, the fighting, didn't surprise him. But he was curious to see how they'd respond to a potential threat. And how Harry would figure into it.

"Are they a problem?"

Charlie casually observed where Edward leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he ground out the question.

"I don't think so," Alice said, her eyes distant. "I think they're just passing through, I don't see any of us interacting with them." She cast a significant look toward Harry, "though it probably doesn't hurt to be safe."

Charlie glanced at Harry and raised his eyebrows in question.

"Alice is a seer. But her visions are subjective, she can only see the path someone is on once they've made a decision. And since their decisions can change, and often do," Harry shrugged as he trailed off.

"The future changes as well," Charlie concluded. "Can you see the vampires that are here? Or only people you know?"

"I can only see the futures of people I've met," she explained. "So I can't look into these vampire's futures, but since I don't see them in any of our futures, I doubt they plan to stay long. But…" she cast another glance at Harry.

"But?" Charlie asked.

"But she can't see my future. Never really could. So there's no guarantee that _I _don't run into them. Or you for that matter."

"You can't see my future, either?" Charlie asked.

"No." Alice confirmed. "I'm a little relieved actually, it means that I likely can't see the future of any wizard, not just Harry."

"Yes, well," Carlisle interrupted, "just to be safe, I'd prefer if the two of you wouldn't stray too far from the house, at least not unaccompanied."

Charlie opened his mouth to protest, then slid a surprised look in Harry's direction. Harry, who was completely silent. Harry, who could hold his own against any vampire. "Do you tell them _anything_ about magic?"

Harry scowled and leaned back into the sofa.

"We're more than capable of defending ourselves," Charlie said, "we're aware of the potential danger, and we're never unarmed," Charlie said his fingers automatically toying with the wand he kept up his sleeve.

"I know you are far from helpless, and against a single vampire I would be less concerned," Carlisle argued, "however, I'm certain there are at least three vampires passing through Forks right now and their actions thus far warn me to be cautious."

Charlie opened his mouth to explain the magic at their disposal but Harry's hand on his elbow stopped him.

"Let it go, Charlie. At most it'll be a few days, then they'll move on to another town, another state. We don't leave the house much anyway."

"So say these vampires don't pose a problem to us, what about everyone else in town" Charlie asked with a frown, "How do we defend them?"

"We don't," Edward said, voice harsh. "In any case these nomads will likely move on now that they've killed one man so openly. The Volturi don't take kindly to those who are less than discreet."

"And if they don't move on?" Charlie challenged.

Edward's lips pressed into a firm line and his eyes narrowed. Charlie met his gaze, refusing to back down from whatever pissing contest they were engaging in.

"Charlie's, right," Harry said. "We can't just leave everyone in Forks vulnerable to…" Harry seemed to search for the right words, "them."

"Our priority is protecting this family," Carlisle interjected. "I understand your concerns, really I do. And I'll talk to Chief Swan about warning the locals to stay out the woods and isolated areas. But we cannot protect everyone."

"Thanks, Dad," Harry said quietly.

Charlie watched as Carlisle's expression hardened as it snapped to his son, his lips pulling into a frown. Charlie followed his stare, surprised that Harry of all people was okay with this. His anger deflated as he took in Harry's expression and posture. Shoulders slumped, eyes distant. Charlie hadn't seen him this checked out in a while.

"Was there anything else?" Harry asked, getting up from the sofa.

"No. I just wanted everyone to be aware."

Charlie watched Harry wander down the hall, fingers toying with the pendant he wore. He didn't seem to notice the way Edward's eyes tracked his every movement.

_Bad sign._

"Harry slipped away while I was speaking to the Sheriff's Deputy, didn't he?"

"Yes. Though he didn't tell me where he went. Whatever he saw, it's shaken him up."

"I know," Carlisle acknowledged.

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"You, my son, are far too predictable," Carlisle said, entering his office to find Harry curled up in one of his wingback chairs, reading a book. He pulled the other chair over until it was less than an arm's length apart from Harry's.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, green eyes peering over the latest Dean Koontz novel.

"Only that since you were a child, whenever something upset you, or you felt unsure, I could find you in my office, curled up in one of my chairs with a book."

"You think I'm upset?" Harry asked, shooting him a bright smile over the top of the book. "I'm just looking for a bit of quiet. Emmett's been teaching Charlie how to play video games… they get a little competitive." Right on cue Emmett's booming voice echoed down the hall. "Besides, whenever I was upset, you brought me cookies."

Carlisle gestured with an easy smile toward to the desk, where he'd set down the glass of milk and plate of cookies.

"Oh," Harry said, swallowing heavily.

"You went to see the body, didn't you?"

"Yes," harry said, swallowing down the bile that surged up his throat as the image of the man's severed fingers and glassy stare surfaced in his mind.

"That was not something I wished for you to see, Harry."

"I'm not a little kid. You don't have to protect me."

"Little you may not be, but protect you I must." Carlisle leaned forward, placing his hands on the arm rests of Harry's chair and pinning his son with a look. "You are my son, and like any of my children I wish to spare you every hurt I possibly can."

"I know. But it isn't necessary. I've seen... things, I've…" He let the 'experienced things' go unsaid.

"I know," Carlisle said softly, "and I know you don't wish to discuss them. But more than that, Harry, I don't wish you to see the darker side of our nature, I've never wanted to expose you to that."

Harry's heart tripped into overtime in his chest, "I could never compare you to them, Dad. Not ever. You could never do such things, none of you could. You're too pure."

"Your faith in us has always astounded me, Harry. We've all made mistakes, all given into our baser, darker instincts in some way. You've always been very generous about that."

"Instincts and mistakes weren't what I saw on the boat today. That was evil, the torture of another for fun. I could never look at you see that."

Carlisle leaned forward, bringing his face close to Harry's, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "An important distinction, yet one you don't seem to apply to yourself."

"I don't understand."

"Do you not believe, do you not know, that your family and I would understand and accept that there is a little darkness in everyone, including you."

Harry glanced away, mouth set in a grim line.

"Harry. I know you well enough to know when you're hiding something. And be it due to shame, or fear, or anxiety, you should know that there is nothing, nothing," Carlisle bit out harshly when Harry glanced at him, "that you could do that would sway our love for you." Harry turned his head, green eyes carefully considering the words as if they could be weighed and measure for their truth. When he nodded his head just a fraction, Carlisle let the subject drop. For the time being. "You should try and get some sleep."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. I've been having some trouble," he admitted quietly.

"Is there nothing you could take?" Carlisle asked, knowing from past experience that muggle medication never worked as intended on Harry.

"Most of the good sleeping potions are addictive, so no."

"Perhaps you should go lay on the couch in the music room," Carlisle suggestion, carefully watching Harry's expression. "I can hear Edward at the piano. That always seemed to soothe you as a child."

"I don't want to bother him," Harry said with a shrug.

"I'm sure he wouldn't consider it a bother if you asked him, Harry."

"Maybe." Harry said, folding down the page of his book. "Maybe a hot shower will do the trick," he said, taking the plate of cookies and glass of milk with him as he headed out the door.

Carlisle sighed and leaned into his chair. Something wasn't right between his sons. If only he could get them to talk to each other. Whatever the issue was, he was certain they could work it out. This distant silence between them was unnatural, and despite what either of his sons said, he could see the separation wore on them both.


	11. Chapter 11

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

Charlie leaned in close to Harry's door and listened for any noise that would give away whether or not Harry was asleep. When he didn't hear anything he withdrew his wand and cast a general diagnostic through the door. One occupant in the room, breathing and heartbeat indicated he was in the early stages of sleep. Satisfied he was unlikely to wake Harry, he began to unravel the net of silencing charms Harry had erected. He couldn't enter the room; he knew beyond a doubt that it would wake Harry up. But he also couldn't just go to bed; pretend he didn't know Harry would have nightmares.

Satisfied that the silencing charms were down Charlie slid to the ground outside the door, extended his long legs across the hall and began making notes in the margin of the text book he'd be using this term. He read for a solid hour, well past midnight before he started to get sleepy. He set the book aside and yawned, stretching his arms and legs as far as they would go. When he opened his eyes, Edward was standing in the middle of the hallway eyeing him distastefully.

"Something wrong with the guest room?" He asked as he stepped over Charlie's outstretched legs.

"Nope."

"Then why don't you use it, instead of loitering outside my little brother's room?"

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Convenient that you 'defend' him while he's asleep. Most of the time you can't be bothered to even acknowledge he's around."

Edward's head whipped around, his eyes narrowed in anger. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, no? I've been here nearly a week now. I've seen Harry interact with every member of his family. Every member but you," Charlie said as he pushed himself to his feet, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "You refuse to go anywhere near him, and even when you are in the same room with him, you ignore him. I expected you, of all people, to care about him more than that." Charlie blinked and had to force himself not to stumble back a few steps as Edward crossed the distance between them in a second. His body, strung tight as a bow, stopped only inches away.

"You have no idea how I feel about Harry." Edward growled. "I care about him more than you could ever imagine."

It was sheer force of will that kept Charlie to his ground. "Then bloody well act like it before you drive him away," Charlie ground out, holding Edward's amber eyes.

Edward's mouth dropped open, but before he could say anything Harry's agonized scream tore through the door.

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Several Months Ago

"Strip." Rudolphus Lestrange commanded the moment Harry and Charlie were released into a cell in the basement of Malfoy Manner.

Harry snapped his head around and barked out, 'no' at the same time Charlie asked, 'why?'

"Crucio," Lestrange hissed, twitching his wand.

The pain plowed through him, singing every nerve and locking every muscle and tearing a scream from his throat. When Lestrange finally lifted the curse, Harry was flat on his back, gasping for breath.

"You'll strip because I told you to. Because I care nothing for your comfort, and because you have no choice," Lestrange said, wand leveled at Harry's chest. "Now. Strip."

Harry caught Charlie's slight nod out of the corner of his eye. He pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. He unbuckled his belt as he toed off his trainers. When he was down to his pants he glanced at Lestrange. His mouth twisted in a cruel grin and he twitched his wand downward. Harry rolled his eyes and repressing a shudder hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants and shucked them.

"Happy?"

McNair stepped out of Lestrange's shadow, his fist catching Harry across his temple and sending him to his knees. "Watch your mouth, boy."

Harry shook his head and willed his vision to focus, thankful he'd gotten rid of his glasses and switched to vision charms. A hand grasped him by his hair and yanked him to his feet. Stumbling for leverage Harry wrapped his hands around the wrist that held him and forced his feet to hold him.

"I'd watch that mouth of yours, Potter," Lestrange warned. "The Dark Lord is abroad for the next several weeks, not to be disturbed for any reason. And we're under orders not to kill you, that honor is reserved for him. We have weeks to make you beg for death…" Lestrange trailed off, eyes focusing on Harry's right wrist. "What's this? Finite."

The glamour covering Harry's wrist dissolved, revealing a leather cuff with a silver crest atop it. "That's mine!" He protested as Lestrange unlaced it and released his hold on Harry's hair. He turned it over several times in his palm.

"Where did you get this?"

Harry pressed his lips together, his wrist felt oddly bare; he'd worn that cuff for years, since before Hogwarts. He'd never been without it.

McNair cracked his knuckles and stepped forward. "Won't answer? I can fix that."

"So stubborn, Potter," Lestrange shook his head. "And for something so simple, we can't have that. Petrificus totalus."

Harry hit the ground hard, his breath leaving him in a rush. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie rush toward him.

"Incarcerous," Lestrange flicked his wand, ropes shooting out to coil around Charlie and bear him to the ground. "No interference from you."

"Why not just kill him?" McNair asked. Harry could hear the heavy thump of boot against ribs and Charlie's muffled grunt. "We don't need him."

"Not yet," Lestrange said, bending over Harry's prone form. He traced the tip of his wand along Harry's lips, partially restoring muscle control. "But we may, Potter's stubborn streak is almost as famous as his loyalty. The red head will prove to be an amusement when we must allow Potter's body to rest."

"Go to hell," Harry ground out.

Lestrange ignored him and instead held his cuff up where he could see it. "This seems to hold some value to you, sentimental I assume? It's interesting; I don't believe it's the Potter crest." He cast a spell, severing the crest from the binding and banishing the shredded leather. "I asked a simple question, where you got it," he said, running his thumb along the raised edges of the crest. "Instead of simply answering, you chose to be stubborn, an act I cannot allow to pass." He conjured a low stool for himself and sat down, trailing his fingers up Harry's thigh, skirting his groin, then up and over his rib cage, then finally down along his arm, coming to rest on the inside of his forearm.

Disgust rolled through Harry at the intimate touch. Unable to jerk away he had to suffer the way Lestrange bent his head and placed his lips next to Harry's ear.

"I am not unreasonable, as it obviously holds sentimental value to you, I'll see to it that you are never without it." He leaned away and pressed the crest, face side down against the inside of Harry's arm. Touching the tip of his wand to the back of the crest he muttered a spell Harry didn't catch. Unable to fight the petrificus Harry lay there as the metal of the Cullen crest began to heat. Harry bit through his lower lip in an effort to contain his screaming.

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In the time it took Charlie to shove Edward aside and lunge for the door Harry's scream had faded from full throated to muffled.

"Harry!" Charlie called, scaling the bookcase and kneeling over him. "Merlin, Harry," Charlie whispered, shaking his shoulder as he wiped at the blood coating Harry's chin. Harry bucked sideways and threw a fist that glanced off Charlie's cheek. The moment Charlie slid to the side Harry sprung up and lunged. Charlie took the brunt of the attack, wrapping his arms around Harry and pressing him back against the mattress and rolling him beneath him. When he had him pinned with his body weight he shot a glance toward the door.

"Get Jasper," Charlie hissed at Edward who stood stock still in the doorway, eyes wide and focused on Harry. "Edward! Jasper, now!"

"I'm here," Jasper said as he darted through the door and appeared at the top of the bed. "Let me help you," he said, grasping Harry's arms as he continued to buck and flail beneath Charlie.

"Harry, wake up, wake up…" Charlie pleaded.

"I don't think he's asleep," Jasper said.

"He's not, not really," Charlie agreed as Harry stopped struggling. "But he's not with us either. Switch with me." Jasper nodded his head and switched places with Charlie, allowing him to come up near Harry's head.

"Harry, open your eyes. You aren't there," Charlie whispered against his ear. "You're in your bedroom at Forks, wake up."

Harry's eyes blinked open and finally focused on Charlie's face. The line between his brows furrowed and grasper his right forearm.

888

"Charlie?" Harry asked. His fingers stroked the skin along his arm reflexively, smooth but for the few places too heavily damaged for Madam Pomfrey to repair. All that remained of the burn was the outline of the crest and a shiny, tight patch of new skin. "I taste blood."

"You bit through your lip," Jasper supplied. "Here, I got you damp cloth," he said, passing a wash cloth from the bathroom to Charlie.

Harry winced and turned his head to the side as Charlie mopped up the blood. "I better get Carlisle, that'll probably need stitches," Jasper said, disappearing off the edge of the bed and moving toward the door.

"Don't bother, I can fix it," Charlie said as he drew his wand from his sleeve. He cast a quick sterilization charm, cleared the blood away and sealed the cut. When he titled Harry's head to the right to inspect his handy work, Harry felt the world collapse around him. Edward stood in the doorway, stock still, eyes wide. Instinctively, Harry reinforced every occlumency barrier he had.

Seconds later, Edward wrenched his head to the side, stumbled back a step and put a bracing hand on the doorway. He looked as though he'd been struck.

"Edward…"

Edward's head snapped back around, his eyes searching Harry's face from across the room.

"Please," Harry winced at the plea in his voice, "what did you see?"

Edward's lips twisted into a snarl and growl ripped from his throat, he took a halting step forward, then spun and darted out of the room.

Harry turned his head away, pressing his face into Charlie's side, too ashamed to speak. Without a word, Charlie stretched out next to him, noxed the lights, and pulled up the blankets.

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Edward slammed through the front door his clothing completely soaked from the thunderstorm raging outside. He'd run for hours, but he hadn't been able to out run the emotions raging within him. How dare they? He'd only caught disjointed bits of Harry's thoughts and memories as he'd come awake, but it was enough. Enough to know that the cruelty he'd witnessed occurred at the start of his brother's three week torment. Worse, the bastards had used the Cullen crest, the crest Edward had given him, to torture him.

He could still remember the day he'd given that cuff to Harry, the promises he'd made to him.

_Promises I couldn't keep._

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"This is my fault." Edward paced the length of his father's study trying desperately to figure out where Harry could have gone. "He disappeared because I scared him." The expression on Harry's face when Edward had glanced up from the grizzly bear would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"We'll find him, son," Carlisle assured, "I spoke with Headmaster Dumbledore, he said that this sort of thing is not uncommon for young wizards. He said Harry likely apparated to someplace he felt safe."

"But where? He's not in the house, or at the school, where else would he go?" Edward shoved his fingers through his hair as he paced. "We can't smell him, how can we track him? The forests here are huge." Edward glanced out the picture window in the office. "A storm's coming in and he's alone out there."

Lighting split the horizon and thunder rolled in the distance. Lighting. "I think I know where he might be," Edward whispered.

"Go. I'll let the others know, we'll be right behind you."

It took less than five minutes to reach the old hollowed out tree he'd shown Harry last summer. Edward took a moment and leaned against the other side of it, forcing himself to calm down and relax; he could hear Harry's quiet whimpers. Now that he found him, he wondered if he shouldn't just wait for the rest of the family, Harry probably wouldn't want to see him…

Lightning pierced the sky overhead and thunder rattled the tree. Harry's whimpers turned to full blow cries Edward simply couldn't ignore. A firm grasp on his patience Edward circled the tree and knelt in the opening. Harry was in there alright, curled up and cradling his arm to his chest.

"Harry?"

Harry's head shot up and his green eyes, wet with tears, went impossibly wide with fear. How was it this child could tear him limb from limb with a single look?

Edward scooted into the hollowed out tree, careful to keep his distance from Harry. "That looks like it hurts," he said pointing to the arm Harry was cradling. "Bet Carlisle could fix it."

Harry shook his head violently and moved further away.

"I'd never hurt you, Harry."

"You hurt the bear," Harry whispered, eyes tracking Edward's every movement.

"He was going to hurt you, Harry. I couldn't let that happen."

"You…" Harry hiccupped and tried pull his legs in closer to his chest, his little shoulders shivering. "You _ate_ him, his blood…"

Edward ran a shaky hand through his hair and wished for Carlisle. What should he tell the boy? He didn't want to scare him any more than he already had. Harry was as perceptive as he was kind, he'd spot a lie and whatever hope Edward had of salvaging his trust in him would be gone. He couldn't live with that idea. In the end, he settled on the truth.

"Are you going to eat me?" Harry asked when Edward had explained everything as best he could. He'd left the stickier bits for Carlisle to handle.

"Of course not," Edward grinned. "You're a Cullen."

"Not a real one," Harry argued, wiping his nose against his shirt. "You could change your mind."

"What do you mean not a real one?"

"I came from somewhere else," Harry explained through a sniffle. "You could eat me. Or send me back."

A thick band of horror squeezed Edward's chest. How long had Harry thought this way, thought he'd be sent away?

"We all came from somewhere else, Harry. Me and Jasper and Emmet and Alice and Rose, none of us were originally Cullens."

"Really?"

"I wouldn't lie to you Harry, not about this. You are as much a Cullen as anyone of us. We'd never send you away. Or eat you," Edward added. He scooted over, settling in side by side with Harry. Gratified that Harry didn't pull away Edward untied the leather cuff he wore on his wrist. Careful to move slowly he gently pulled Harry's uninjured arm away from his chest and wrapped the cuff around his wrist. It was so large it wrapped nearly twice around, but he secured it anyway. "This is our family crest, Harry." Edward explained running a thumb over the silver on the cuff. "It means you'll always be a part of this family."

"Always?"

"Always," Edward confirmed shrugging out of his jacket and wrapping it around Harry's shaking frame.

"But this one's yours," Harry whispered as Edward pulled him close again. "I can't take it."

"Yes you can. You'll keep it safe for me. Just like I'll keep you safe."

"Like from grizzly bears?" Harry asked as he pressed his face into Edward's shoulder.

"And everything else," Edward promised as he scooped Harry into his arms.

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_I should never have made him such a promise. _

Edward forced himself to relax his muscles and let his fingers find a relaxed melody on the piano. Anything to quiet his thoughts and calm his temper.

He'd been playing for more than an hour, his fingers finally finding a comfortable and distracting rhythm when the door to the music room softly swung open.

Harry didn't look at him, didn't say anything, just quietly walked to the sofa on the other side of the room. He lay down without ever saying a word and pulled the throw on the back of the sofa over him.

Edward watched him out of the corner of his eye for a long time, muscles tight and fingers hovering over the keys.

"Please, Edward," Harry's whisper carried across the room and ran like a cool caress down the length of Edward's spine. "I just want to rest, please."

He knew he should get up, find Carlisle or Jasper, they could both get Harry settled. But the weight of Harry's request kept him seated. He let his fingers fall against the ivory keys. He filled the room with soft melody after soft melody until finally Harry's breathing evened out into a deep regular pattern. Hours later as dawn approached he inserted a CD of his melodies and let the stereo take over.

Carefully, he approached Harry, allowing his eyes to linger on the inside of his right arm. Aside from the shiny patch of new skin he couldn't tell how badly he'd been hurt. He snapped his fingers back from Harry's arm at the last minute. He couldn't permit himself that touch, not even for a moment.

Edward quietly moved to the door and dimmed the lights. Years ago he'd made Harry a promise. A promise to protect him. And even if he hadn't done so in the past, he would now.

_I'll even protect you from me._


	12. Chapter 12

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine. I think this is the chapter a lot of you have been waiting for. Enjoy!

Thanks for all the reviews!

"There you are," Charlie said poking his head into the music room. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Harry sat up and threw the light blanket covering him over the back of the couch. "Sorry. Old habits."

"What do you mean?"

"When I was little and I couldn't sleep I used to sneak into the music room we had in Alaska, listen to Edward play." Harry picked up the remote on the table next to the couch and turned off the stereo.

"Did the recording work?"

"Yeah. But Edward was here first. He played for a while." Harry frowned, Edward had played for him, but it had been clear he didn't want to. He'd never heard Edward so stiff and choppy at the keys before.

"Well, that seems like progress."

"I guess." Harry shrugged then stood and stretched. "I'll just grab a shower. Maybe we could go into town for a movie or something?"

"I don't think your family is going to be letting you out on your own until these nomads pass through. Besides, Alice has been rubbing her hands together all morning, something about today being a perfect day to play baseball. I can't figure out what she means, looks like the weather's going to turn nasty in another hour or so."

A broad smile stretched Harry's face. "Really? Did she say what time?"

"The family is downstairs waiting for you, ready to leave. But why? The weather looks terrible."

"Exactly," Harry said crossing the hall into his bedroom, Charlie hot at his heels. "A thunderstorm is the only time everyone can play. You'll see why," Harry said as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it in the laundry bin.

"I think I can guess," Charlie laughed. "Emmett explained some of the rules of the game and how it's played."

"Emmett cheats. Don't listen to him."

"I do NOT cheat!" Emmett's voice rang out. "And hurry up, Alice is getting impatient."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll skip the shower; I'll need one when I get back anyway."

"Okay, I'll let you change and meet you downstairs; I've got to grab something from my room anyway."

Thirty minutes later Harry jumped out of the back of Emmett's jeep, they'd needed his four wheel drive to reach this part of the woods. In Harry's opinion it was completely worth the bumpy ride.

"This place is incredible!" Charlie exclaimed. "I had no idea such a huge meadow existed in the middle of all this wilderness."

It was roughly the width of two quidditch pitches and completely surrounded by towering trees. Perfect for baseball.

"Okay, so it's Rosalie, Jasper and Edward versus me, Alice, Carlisle and Esme," Emmett said, dropping his pile of gear near, "home plate is here, who bats first?"

"Wait a minute, where does that leave Harry and me?" Charlie asked.

"We get to make the calls," Harry said sending a pointed glare toward Emmett and Jasper.

"He thinks we cheat," Jasper supplied with a grin.

"We know you cheat," Esme corrected.

"Well, that sounds, er, fun, and all. But I consider myself more of a participant and less of a spectator. Funny, Harry, I could have sworn you felt the same."

Harry shot Charlie a questioning look. "I thought I explained everything in the car," Harry said as a huge thunderclap shook the ground.

"It's time!" Alice squealed and grabbed a bat. "We bat first!"

"Great. I'll pitch," Emmett supplied.

"First base," Jasper called.

"I'll take third if you take home," Edward said glancing at Rosalie.

"Sure."

"Perfect," Charlie said shoving his hand into his front pocket. "Harry and I will cover the outfield."

"Charlie, I don't think this is a good idea…" Harry stuttered as Charlie pulled him across the field.

"Let it go runt, if the guy wants to get clobbered, that's his business," Emmett shouted after them.

Harry turned his face toward Charlie and squinted through the drizzle. "What are you up to?"

"I just think it's time you showed off a little," he said as he pressed something warm and solid into Harry's hand.

Harry flexed his fingers around the object and glanced down. "My firebolt?" The moment he acknowledged it it enlarged in his hand. The broom's latent magic shot up his hand in welcome and Harry felt the first rush of excitement burst through him.

"Youngest seeker in a century, right? And I'll bet your family's never seen you fly."

"Nope!" Harry grinned and mounted his broom. "You take right, I'll take left?"

"You got it," Charlie said just as sound of Emmett's bat connecting with the ball shot through the clearing.

Harry pushed off from the ground and shot skyward with a whoop of delight, his fingers closing around the stretched leather before it ever reached the clearing.

He'd never forget the look on Emmett's face as Esme yelled, 'you're out!'

Hours later, long after the score had been forgotten and warming and water repelling charms had ceased to work, everyone gathered back by the jeep, packing up the equipment as the last of the storm rumbled away in the distance.

"I can't believe you held out on us so long, runt!" Emmett said playfully shoving him into Charlie. "Next time you're on my team."

"Deal." Harry said, the grin splitting his face so large it hurt.

"Please," Charlie scoffed. "Plucking balls out of the air is a piece of cake compared to what Harry used to do on the quidditch pitch. You really want to see something interesting? You want to see him chase this." "Where did you get that?" Harry asked as he plucked the snitch from Charlie's hand.

"Liberated it from Hooch's stores before I left," Charlie explained with a grin Harry'd only ever seen on Fred and George.

"Harry's going to catch a gold golf ball? Oh, this I have to see." Emmett said as he snatched the snitch out of Harry's fingers. "Looks really challenging," he scoffed.

"Watch this," Harry said, tapping the top of the gold ball with his wand. Wings unfurled from the sides and flexed then launched the tiny ball into the air. It zipped around Emmett's head, then over to Jasper and around Edward, evading each of them as they tried to pluck it from the air.

"Accio," Charlie said, summoning the snitch back. "Anyone up for a challenge?" He asked with a grin.

"Bring it on." A huge grin spread across Emmett's face.

"This is a practice snitch, I can enchant it to remain in a certain area, or I can enchant it to fly to a specific location. I'll key it to the wards around the house, all any of you" Charlie gestured to Edward, Jasper and Emmett, "have to do is catch the snitch before it passes the wards _and _ before Harry catches it."

"Where's the challenge?" Jasper said shooting a cocky grin at a Harry. "Flying or not, I'm still faster than you are."

"Prove it," Harry said mounting his broom. "Anyone else?"

"I'm in," Edward stepped forward. The challenge that lit his face sent Harry's world pitching sideways.

"You guys have fun, and be careful," Esme admonished. "We'll drive back. Charlie, are you coming with us or joining them?"

Charlie shot Harry a calculating look. "Harry doesn't need my help for this. I'll ride back with you. Everyone ready?"

Harry let his leg muscles bunch and coil and trained his eyes on Charlie's hand. The moment he let it go he pushed off from the ground and shot after the snitch. He whooped as he heard Emmett curse and his mother call out, 'watch out for the trees!'

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Edward ran flat out, leaping over fallen trees and dodging through the forest undergrowth, his eyes trained exclusively on Harry.

Some time in the last twenty minutes they'd lost Emmet and Jasper, the snitch was simply too fast and too elusive for them to keep up. It amazed him that humans, even wizards, were able to track the tiny ball, let alone pursue it in a sport.

Edward put on a burst of speed as Harry leaned over his broom, fingers brushing the tiny fluttering wings. His stomach lurched as Harry pulled hard to the left, performing a series of tight spirals around several large trees before flattening out over his broom and racing after the snitch again. Edward had lost count of the number of close encounters Harry'd had with solid objects and even the ground in the last five minutes alone. Though Harry's grace and agility amazed him, his death defying thrill seeking did not. Every time he brushed a tree trunk or skimmed the ground after a steep dive his nerves took a beating and his temper boiled. What Harry considered fun, Edward considered suicidal.

Ahead of him, Harry burst through the trees inches behind the snitch. Less than fifty yards from the house he pushed himself to the very edge of his broom, fingers brushing the little gold ball as it darted back and forth. Determined to win, or get himself killed, he lunged forward at the last minute, toppled completely over the edge of his broom and hit the ground, tumbling fifteen yards across the grass before coming to rest in an unmoving heap at the base of a large tree.

Edward was on him in seconds. "Harry!" He turned him over carefully, a scream for Carlisle on the tip of his tongue.

"I win." Harry smiled up from, eyes dancing with mirth, his fist clutching the struggling gold ball.

Temper eclipsed reason and Edward hauled him up by his jacket and set him on his feet. "Of all the stupid, idiotic, suicidal acts! Are you out of your mind? Do you have a death wish?"

"You're just a sore loser," Harry said, shrugging him off as he wiped at the blood that was beginning to seep from the gash in his hairline.

Edward pulled him back around by his elbow, "what the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded, his heart still lodged somewhere in his throat.

"What's wrong with me?" Harry jerked his arm away, eyes flashing in anger. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"You nearly got yourself killed with that stunt!" Edward had to forcibly tear his eyes away from the blood trickling down Harry's forehead.

"Like you care!" Harry brushed past him, heading for the garage where the rest of the family was climbing out of Emmett's jeep.

Edward shot out an arm before he could think better of it and pulled Harry back around to face him. "I care!"  
"You've got a strange way of showing it!"

Edward tightened his grip around Harry's bicep reflexively. When Harry winced, he forced himself to loosen his grip, but he didn't let go. He couldn't let go.

"You haven't said two words to me since I've been back. You can't even stand to be in the same room with me!"

Harry's expression sliced straight through him, all the anger, hurt, and betrayal hit him like blows.

"What did I do that was so terrible?" Harry whispered, his vulnerability clear in the way his eyes glazed over as he dropped his head. "Whatever it was, I swear I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything," Edward said on a sigh. He forced himself to let go of Harry's arm. "I just…"

"You just what?" Harry hissed, anger overriding the sorrow in his voice. "You just wish I'd never come back?"

"It might have been better!" Edward regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He didn't need Carlisle's or Jasper's shouts or stern disapprovals ringing in his head, the moment he saw Harry's face shutter agonized guilt ripped through him. "I didn't mean that," he said. Harry dodged the hand Edward tried to lay on his shoulder.

"Yes you did. It's the first honest thing you've said to me since I've been back," Harry whispered.

"You don't understand. I missed you. I wanted you to come home…"

"But?"

"But it's dangerous!" Edward exclaimed, frustration overriding his better sense. "I could so easily hurt you. You… you tempt me, Harry. Every moment I spend near you is agony, every breath a new torment."

"But the suppressant…" Harry's wide green eyes focused on his face.

"Doesn't work. Not now. Not for me." Edward admitted quietly.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I could control it. I thought I could move past it, get used to it. I don't want to hurt you," he admitted.

"You could never hurt me."

"I could, so easily. You have no idea. Even now, the blood running down your forehead calls to me. _Sings_ to me."

Anger overtook Harry's face. "You don't get it. You can't hurt me. You don't have it in you." Harry put a warm hand on the center of his chest.

Edward was intimately aware of the way each finger curled into the fabric. He wrenched himself away before he could slide into insanity. "I'm leaving. I can't stay here anymore." A burst of air hit his back and sent him stumbling forward as he tried to walk away.

"Coward," Harry hissed at him. "You can't run away."

"Why not," Edward spun to face him barely registering the wand Harry pointed at him. "You did," he accused. "You ran from us. Would have kept running had it not been for him," Edward jerked his head to where Charlie had a restraining hand on Carlisle's shoulder.

An angry flush worked up Harry's neck and spread across his cheeks. "That was different. I didn't know, I thought…"

"Yeah. I know. You thought we'd abandoned you. You didn't have enough faith in us, Harry. Enough faith to believe we'd never leave you. Enough faith to ask for help when you needed it."

"I couldn't! I couldn't pull you into a fight that wasn't yours."

"Any fight of yours is a fight of ours!"

"I was trying to protect you."

"And I'm trying to protect you," Edward felt the anger and confusion leave him in a rush, leaving only exhaustion behind to weigh down his shoulders. "I swore to protect you, Harry. I promised. I wasn't there when you needed me," Edward grasped Harry's forearm, trailed his thumb over the area he knew he'd been burned. "Let me do the right thing now."

He watched Harry drop his wand arm, watched him shake some of the anger off. "I don't need you to protect me, Edward. Not like this. You could never hurt me," Harry repeated.

Edward was on him in a flash, hands wrapped around his shoulders, forcing him back against the tree behind him. Harry's breath left him in a rush and Edward winced at the way his head hit the back of the tree. "You couldn't stop me!" He whispered against Harry's ear. "I'm too strong. Too fast. It would be so easy…"

"You're ego is out of control," Harry growled.

A burst of magic caught him across the chest and threw him across the yard. He hadn't even gained his feet before Harry was on him again, lashing out with a spell that pinned him to the ground and pulled his limbs wide.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of!" Harry shouted as he bore down on him, eyes flashing and hair wild around his face. The entire yard felt charged, like the atmosphere before a lightning strike. "I survived a war. I killed a wizard more than twice my age who's wanted me dead from my birth! He didn't succeed. Neither would you." Harry knelt next to him in the grass his lips pressed thin, his expression hard. "You aren't the first vampire to threaten me, either. I killed the last one that pinned me to a tree."

The oppressive weight of Harry's magic suddenly disappeared, allowing him to sit up.

"I learned how to take care of myself a long time ago, Edward. I don't need you to fight bears for me anymore." Harry's eyes softened. "And I don't need you to protect me from you. You could never hurt me. Not like that."

Edward sat on the grass, desperately wanting to take the hand Harry offered him. Could he risk it, even if he could control the blood lust, even if Harry could protect himself if he lost control, what about the rest of it?

"Please, Edward."

He'd never been able to deny Harry anything. Heaven help them both he couldn't deny him this. "I couldn't live with myself," Edward said, taking the hand Harry extended him. "The thought tears me apart." He pushed him to his feet. It took every ounce of strength he had to allow Harry to wrap his arms around him and lay his chin on his shoulder.

"I trust you." He whispered against Edward's ear. "I trust you."

"Stop!" Alice's startled yell broke them apart. "Stop! They're coming, they were leaving, but the felt the magic. They're curious." Alice's eyes were wide and blank.

"How soon?" Carlisle asked.

"Now." Edward pulled Harry behind him as three figures emerged from the woods bordering their home.


	13. Chapter 13

Author:innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine. Also, chapters will come slower. I'm working extremely long hours and refocusing on my original novel, so my writing time is limited.

A word about reviews: I've had so many very kind comments and reviews, I appreciate every single one of them. In a perfect world I'd be able to reply to all of you individually but the reality is that if I did that my updates would come that much more slowly. All the same, once again:

Thanks for all the reviews!

Three of them emerged from the tree line, closing the space between them as they approached. Harry placed a calming hand on Edward's shoulder and shook off the hand locked around his forearm. Edward spared him a warning glance but relented. The moment his arm was free he slid his wand into his sleeve, careful to keep it within easy reach.

"Relax, Edward." As he said the words he felt Jasper's calming influence flood the yard, taking the edge off everyone's emotions as the three strangers approached.

"Hello," the vampire in the front spoke first, a friendly smile stretching his face. "We were passing through, felt something… odd." His crimson eyes flicked from Edward to Harry then back to Carlisle who was walking toward them. "We were curious."

Carlisle drew up next to him and rested a soothing hand on Edward's shoulder. "Odd? In what way?"

"Powerful." The other male stepped forward his bare feet carrying him across the lawn in long strides. "I've felt such a thing before. But never from one of our kind." He raked Edward with a calculating look then slid his gaze to Harry. "And never across so great a distance."

"Forgive my manners," Carlisle said his tone friendly, "I am Carlisle. This is my family, Edward, Harry, Jasper, Emmett, Charlie, Esme, Alice and Rosalie. And this is our residence," he said, gesturing to the house behind him.

"I am Laurent," the taller of the two males gave a slight nod, "this is Victoria and James." His eyes surveyed the home behind them, a line forming between his brows. "A permanent residence? How is that possible?"

"Ah, that's a rather long story…"

"I'm more interested in who was responsible for the burst of power that flooded the forest," James said prowling to the left to get a better look at the rest of the family. His head swayed back and forth, like the head of a hooded cobra, as he surveyed the family.

"You'll have to forgive my friend, his curiosity has overshadowed his manners," he said, his voice carrying a warning. James cocked his head and pulled his lips away from his teeth but finally stepped back and held still.

"It's no problem," Carlisle said, "I imagine he felt a friend of ours who recently departed our home. His comings and goings tend to charge the atmosphere," he explained with an easy grin. "Passing through you said? Do you intend to remain in the region long?"

"No," Laurent replied. "We were moving on when we felt your friend's departure. I hope we haven't created any difficulties for you with our hunting."

"Nothing that won't pass once you've moved on," Carlisle assured.

"We fed this morning, we'll hunt no more in your territory. Though I wonder if we might impose upon your hospitality for an hour or so? We've been on the move for some time and would appreciate the opportunity to rinse away the forest. I'm also interested in how it is you maintain this residence."

Carlisle slid a side long glance to Edward then gestured toward the door. "Of course, we'd be happy to accommodate you. A few of us were just heading into town for a few things, can they pick anything up for you?"

Laurent followed Carlisle, motioning for James and Victoria to do so as well, "you are too kind. A warm shower and we will be on our way."

Harry watched Laurent, then Victoria head toward the house behind Carlisle. James remained rooted to the spot, flicking his eyes between him and Edward his mouth drawn firm. Finally, he jerked his head away and passed them heading toward the house.

"Catch!" Emmett tossed the keys across the yard into Edward's outstretched hand. "Your team lost, so you Harry, Charlie and Alice get to do the shopping and wash the jeep." His voice was light but there was no wide smile stretching his face as he turned to go into the house.

Harry couldn't help his sigh of relief as they climbed into the jeep, buckled their seatbelts and Edward hit the accelerator.

The moment the jeep hit the blacktop of the highway Edward floored it, his knuckles going white against the steering wheel.

"Hey, slow down," Harry said, placing a calming hand on Edward's forearm. "You'll blow right through town at this rate."

"Edward, you're overreacting," Alice piped up from the back seat. "They'll be gone in a couple of hours. Let's just get the mud washed off the jeep and catch a movie. By the time we're back they'll have moved on."

"Edward, you just missed the turn for town," Harry caught the way the muscles along his jaw flexed as he ground his teeth.

"He'll never agree to this Edward," Alice supplied from the back seat.

"Agree to what," Harry demanded. "What's going through your head?"

When Edward didn't reply Harry glanced back at Charlie who shrugged and then at Alice who threw her hands in the air.

"Take it up with him, Charlie and I are going to spend the next several minutes pretending not to be here," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Edward…" When Edward continued to maintain his silence Harry withdrew his wand a sent a spell to unscrew the cap on the radiator. Seconds later steam billowed over the hood, blinding them to the road.

"Emmett is going to kill you," Edward ground out as he pulled the car off the road. "I hope for your sake you can fix that."

"Relax, it's just a bit of steam. Now start explaining."

"I'm taking you and Charlie to the airport and putting you on the first flight back to England," he said with finality. "I want you out of here until we're certain the nomads are really gone."

"Do you enjoy being this thick headed?" harry asked with a snort. "Honestly. First, I'm not going anywhere. Second, you can't just put us on a flight. We need documents, passports, mine are at the house, Charlie doesn't have any. He has to go home via portkey to avoid muggle authorities."

"Fine. Then we'll wait until Alice is sure they've left the house, then we can go back and arrange for a portkey for you," Edward turned pleading amber eyes one him. "Just a few weeks, a month tops. Long enough for James to leave behind his curiosity and move forward."

"We're back to point one, I'm not leaving," Harry shook his head. "Besides, Alice seems to think that the nomads are moving on tonight. And James bought that the power burst was from another wizard, what's got your wand in a knot?" Harry swallowed a laugh as he watched Edward struggle to maintain a straight face. He succeeded, but for the way his eyes softened and the corner of his mouth twitched. In the next minute Edward schooled his face and shot him a glare.

"You didn't hear the repulsive things he was thinking!" Edward leaned across the console, his voice harsh and grating. "He's come across wizards before… the challenge of the hunt, of the kill. It exhilarates him. He wasn't convinced of the truth, I could see his thoughts, circling like vultures in his head. He's too interested in the challenge to give up so easily."

Harry hesitated, mulling over all of James' reactions from the encounter. "Alice?" He asked, twisting in his seat to stare down his sister. "I thought you said they intended to leave?"

"They do. James goes with them. But beyond their crossing into Oregon I can't seem to track their path."

"See," Harry said, turning back to Edward. "They're leaving. Problem solved."

"He's too curious. Especially about you, he knows you're different, Harry. The Oregon border is only a few hours run for us, if he changes his mind, he could be back before Alice saw it."

"What do you mean he knows I'm different?"

"He heard your heartbeat. Noticed your varied breathing. But he couldn't smell you, apparently the suppressant works for him," Edwards lips quirked in a self deprecating grin. "Still, it was enough to attract his notice. That's enough of a reason to get you out of the country for a while."

"What it is," Harry said patiently, "is a reason to be cautious. I'll reign in the magic use until we're sure they've moved on. We," he glanced over his shoulder at Charlie, "will keep all of our spells at a low level, nothing powerful, nothing flashy. Not until Alice is certain they've moved on for good, okay?"

Edward sat there for a long time, starting him down, the muscles in his jaw popping with frustration.

"Alright, look," Charlie said, leaning forward in his seat, "I get you want to be cautious, but there's no reason for Harry to go back to England, frankly, it's safer here."

"Charlie!" Harry hissed.

"What," he asked with a careless shrug, "it's true and you know it. James will move on, he shouldn't be able to feel your magic from more than a few miles away. And anyway, he's one vampire. We're more than capable of handling one vampire."

"He's more than that," Edward rounded on Charlie, "I've seen his thoughts, his memories. He's a tracker, and hundreds of years old. He's lethal."

"All the same," Harry waited for Edward to look at him then put all of his determination behind his expression and said, "I'm not leaving."

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Hours later, after Alice assured them it was safe to return home and Harry had repaired Emmett's jeep Edward found himself standing in the corner of Harry's room, listening to his even breathing as he slept. After Laurent's talk with Carlisle he'd headed north, toward the Denali coven but Alice had assured him that James and Victoria had actually crossed into Oregon.

It didn't matter how far they went, Edward knew James's curiosity ran to deep. He just couldn't seem to pull himself away from Harry. Still, he'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit he was a little relieved Harry had refused to return to England. At least this way he could keep an eye on him, ensure that he was on hand to deal with any threats. He let a little smile curl his lips. Harry had complained about his absence? He wondered how he would handle his constant presence.

Which of course, posed other… difficulties.

"Edward," Carlisle's voice filtered up to him from down stairs. "I need to speak with you in my office. Now please."


	14. Chapter 14

Author: innocentimp

Summary: Harry Potter went to live with Carlisle Cullen and his family when he was 7, then to Hogwarts when he was 11. Now he's 20, the war with Voldemort is over and due to misunderstandings and manipulations he's not seen or heard from his adoptive family in years. This is his journey home.

Pairings: EC/HP

Warnings: Slash and all that entails. Don't complain.

Note: As this is only a writing exercise for me, I have no beta. All mistakes are mine. I do apologize for being away from this project for so long. I've sold a book to a publisher so this had to go on the back burner, which in turn killed my momentum. I hope to update more regularly now and close out this project before I get sucked back into my original work.

_Thanks for all the reviews!_

"You wanted to see me?" Edward asked as he entered Carlisle's office.

"Yes, have a seat," Carlisle said, gesturing toward the arm chair in front of his desk as he flipped closed the patient file on top of his desk.

Edward forced himself to relax into the chair Carlisle indicated. The moment his back touched the seat his fingers curled into the arms, his jaw locked and the thirst he'd so carefully controlled all evening surged to life.

_Harry. _The chair smelled of Harry, his scent threaded through every fiber, even the throw across the back smelled of him.

"It really does affect you strongly, doesn't it?" Carlisle quietly asked his tone kind.

Unable to unlock his jaw, Edward jerked his head in the affirmative.

"You understand that this is more than thirst, Edward? That if Harry's your singer, then he's also –

"No," Edward growled.

"You have to consider the possibility."

"No," Edward pushed himself from his seat. "I don't. I _won't._ I'd never do that to him."

"To him?" Carlisle's eyes went soft. "I think it may be the best thing for him, Edward. And you."

"Best thing?" Edward hissed, "How could you say that. If I claimed him, acknowledged him as my mate, I'd have to turn him. I won't do that."

Carlisle studied him for a long moment. "With or without you, he's on that path already. Has been for years now. He's a member of this family Edward, at Harry's request I will turn him."

"You would do that?" Edward growled, his fingers clenching the edge of Carlisle's desk. "You would risk his soul?"

"Not without his permission, no. But if it's what he wants… I could never deny him, Edward. Nor would I want to. He's as much my son as you are."

"Yet you'd support a union between us?" Edward asked incredulously. "He's my brother."

"Are you denying your feelings for him?"

Edward jerked his head to the window on the far wall, his teeth locked around the denials bubbling up his throat.

"You spent a few short years with him, Edward. And your relationship was never inappropriate. He's spent nearly a decade of his life in Britain, and he's grown up while we weren't looking. He's a fine man."

"You truly have no objection?" He cut a wary glance toward Carlisle.

"I want only for him to be happy. The same thing I've wanted for you for many, long decades. I ask only that you be honest with him. He's always been closest to you, and your opinion has always held the greatest weight with him. Your reluctance could hurt him deeply." Carlisle came around the desk. "I'll not mention this discussion to the others. I just wanted you to consider your options." He squeezed Edward's shoulder firmly before he passed out of the office.

_My options?_

Edward wandered out of the office and down the hallway, his mind running in circles.

_Carlisle assumes too much. Harry's given no indication that his feelings mirror mine. This is his home; I'll not risk his happiness here. I can control myself. I've managed the thirst, I'll manage this too. _

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"You look like hell," Harry leaned against the doorway and watched as Charlie rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. "Do you even remember the last time you showered?"

Charlie tossed him the finger and snatched a fresh t-shirt from the dresser. "Five minutes ago."

"Well, thank Merlin for that," Harry crossed to the bed, spelled it made and cast a freshening charm. "I was beginning to think you were melding with the sofa."

Charlie pulled his wand and spelled away the three day growth along his jaw. "I'm exhausted."

"It's nearly noon," Harry pointed out. "If you'd stop staying up all hours of the night with Emmett playing video games you'd feel a bit better. And live longer," he added under his breath. He'd woken up to the sound of Rosalie's screaming at four that morning.

"Ha-ha," Charlie responded, but the way he shifted the waistband on his jeans and grimaced said he'd heard Rose loud and clear when she'd threatened to castrate him last night. "Emmett's cool, but I think our gaming days are over. I'm a little surprised you didn't talk about him more, were you guys not close when you were a kid?" Charlie asked, taking a seat next to Harry on the bed.

"Emmett and I were close, but it took a little longer than it did with Edward and Carlisle," Harry admitted guiltily. "I guess they were easier to be around in some ways."

"How do you mean? Emmett seems like the most relaxed of the bunch, the most carefree. I would have thought that would appeal to a kid."

"I guess. And sometimes it did. But Emmett sort of functions on the same level of hyper all the time, and at the same volume," Harry added. "And when I was seven? He looked _huge_."

"You were afraid of him?" Charlie asked.

"Wary, I guess. I'd only been away from my Aunt and Uncle's for a couple of months. And, well, instinct told me to keep my distance."

"But that obviously changed."

"Yeah," Harry agreed with a smile. "It did."

Alaska, 1988

Carlisle knelt in front of Harry's favorite arm chair and tilted the little boy's chin up. "It's only for a few hours, okay?" When Harry continued to stare with large, wary eyes he continued. "The girls are off shopping, Edward and Jasper are camping, and I've been called into the hospital. Emmett is going to stay with you until I get home, I won't be long Harry. I promise."

Harry didn't say anything, just peered over Carlisle's shoulder to where Emmett hovered in the doorway.

"You and Emmett haven't really gotten a chance to get to know each other, Harry. Maybe you can watch a movie, or go for a walk?"

Unsure what to say Harry nodded jerkily and settled on, "I'll be good."

Carlisle frowned and the little line that meant he was sad appeared between his brows. "Harry, you aren't in trouble, this isn't a punishment. You know that right?" Carlisle asked, settling a cool hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I know."

"Alright, then. I'll be back in a few hours; you and Emmett have a nice afternoon, okay?" With one last squeeze to his shoulder Carlisle left. "Emmett, a word?"

Harry pulled his legs to his chest. What were they talking about? Should he follow them? At the Dursley's he got in trouble for listening when he shouldn't, but sometimes it was about him! And sometimes it helped to know what to expect. And who to avoid. He buried his head in his knees. He didn't want to be a nasty little sneak.

_I wish I could hear them from here. Then it wouldn't be sneaking…_

"I don't think this is a good idea, Carlisle." Emmett's voice filtered into the room as if in answer to Harry's wish. "He's afraid of me."

_No I'm not!_

"No he's not," Carlisle replied. "He's just wary. He needs some time to get to know you, Emmett."

"He didn't seem to need anytime with you." A thump sounded, as though someone had knocked their fist against a wall. "Or Edward."

"I've had more one on one time with him than the rest of you and Edward is a quieter soul, Emmett."

"So what am I supposed to do with him? I can't play the piano, and I don't brood."

Carlisle laughed. "Why don't you start with chicken nuggets, ice cream and a board game, go from there, okay?"

_Three Hours Later _

"Sorry!" Harry squeaked as he bumped Emmet's yellow game piece off the board. For the third time.

"I think you're cheating."

"Am not!" Harry managed to sound both outraged and terrified at the same time.

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded his head, mouth set with grim determination.

"Then what's this?" Emmet reached up the sleeve of Harry's sweatshirt and withdrew one of his little yellow game pieces. "You holding out on me, kid?"

Harry shot to his feet, eyes impossibly wide, mouth hanging open. "I… I… I didn't take that!"

"Yeah? What about this one, then?" Emmett slid his fingers around the back of Harry's ear, willing himself to ignore Harry's sudden flinch, and pulled out another yellow piece.

"How?" Harry's little hand shot up, tugging at his ear. "How did you do that?" He asked equal parts fascination and horror coloring his voice.

Emmett couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. "Relax, Runt." He ruffled Harry's hair and stood up. "I'm just teasing you." He held out his hand palm up. "Empty, right?" He waited for Harry's nod, then wiggled his fingers and clenched his fist. When he opened it a nano second later, a red and yellow game piece sat in the center.

Harry looked from his palm, to his face, then breathed, "cool!" When he reached out to touch one of the pieces Emmett made them disappear again with a smile. "No way. If I give them back you'll just want to clobber me at Sorry again. I think I'd rather have ice cream."

"Chocolate?" Harry asked, grin widening to show off his missing front tooth.

"Sure, runt. Why don't you put the game back in Carlisle's study and I'll grab the ice cream."

"Okay," Harry dropped to his knees and shuffled everything into the box. "Be right back!"

Emmett barely made it to the kitchen before a zip of electricity raced up his spine. Unsure what had caused it he peered through the kitchen window and into the woods. As though they'd shared the same feeling hundreds of birds shot to the sky simultaneously out of the woods, their calls carrying for miles. As a unit they turned south and disappeared.

The dishes began rattling against each other, clanking then breaking. A picture, one of Harry's first, fell from its place on the wall, the frame shattering against the wood floor.

"Emmett!" Harry's terrified scream rattled him into movement. He dashed through the house, dodging falling objects and ignoring the splintering of wood and crashing of glass. He turned the corner into Carlisle's office in time to see the heavy oak bookcase sway away from the wall, cascading medical tomes and novels over the terrified eight year old.

Emmett didn't think, he just moved, placing himself between the falling bookcase and Harry. He barely registered the thud of the wood against his back as he dropped to his knees and pulled Harry beneath him. "It's okay, kid. I've got you." Harry's pulse pounded out a brutal pace and his tears soaked through Emmett's sleeve. Finally, the earth settled and silence descended.

"Harry?" The little boy didn't respond, just clung tighter to Emmett's chest. "Harry, it's okay. Let me just move you away from the bookcase." When Harry didn't say anything Emmett wrapped an arm around his waist and hefted him off the ground as he used his back to push the bookcase back up and against the wall. "Why don't you sit here in Carlisle's chair, okay?" He gently disentangled the arms wrapped around his neck and deposited the kid in the chair.

"Harry, you okay?" He didn't answer, just glanced away at the floor. "Harry?" Emmett ran a critical eye over him; he looked okay, no obvious broken bones and no blood that he could see. He took a knee in front of the little boy. "Why don't we call Carlisle?"

"No! No, please! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it!" Watery green eyes locked with his halting his quest for the phone.

"What?"

"I didn't mean to do it, I swear!"

"Do what, Harry?"

"Make the bookcase fall over. I can clean it all up! I can put it all back." He leapt from the chair, scrambling to the books strewn across the floor. The phone cut through Emmett's confusion before he could follow Harry.

"Yeah?" Emmett answered.

"Emmett, thank goodness. Is Harry alright?" Carlisle sounded stressed and Emmett could hear the chaotic noise of the hospital in the background.

"He seems to be…"

"But?"

"I don't know, there's not a mark on him, but he's upset, Carlisle. Keeps apologizing for making the bookcase fall over. I don't understand what he means."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and then finally, "He was removed from his relatives because of his uncontrolled magical bursts. They weren't magical and couldn't deal with it."

"I don't understand, Carlisle."

"When Harry would get upset, things would rattle. Sometimes fall off of shelves. He was punished for it, Emmett."

"What are you saying?" Emmett hissed through clenched teeth.

"It's not important –

"It damn well is if they hurt him!"

"They don't have that power anymore, Emmett. It's why the headmaster asked me to take him in."

"He's terrified, Carlisle. How soon can you get here? He needs you."

"I can't leave the hospital, Emmett. The quake was pretty large, we're expecting an influx. Hold on."

Carlisle stopped talking and Emmett took the opportunity to glance around for Harry. His heart seized when he didn't immediately see him. Books were still strewn across the floor, but no Harry. Just as he was about to panic a sniffle from beneath Carlisle's desk caught his attention. Emmett ducked his head and sure enough, Harry was curled up under the desk, knees to chest, desperately holding back tears.

"Hey, kid. What are you doing under there?"

"Is he mad?" Harry choked out.

"What? Harry, no. No one's mad."

"Emmett, you there?" Carlisle interrupted, coming back on the line.

"Yeah, Carlisle. You need to get here. Now."

"I can't, Emmett. The ER is already starting to fill up and the sheriff just told me there've been reports of landslides. The mountain road leading to the house is likely impassible."  
"So, that'll hardly stop you."

"I can't just leave Emmett, it'll look suspicious. I'll have to stay in town for the time being."

"Okay, fine. I'm sure Esme and the girls will be home soon, I can hold out until then."

"I don't think so, son. They just walked into my office. You're going to have to hold out until Edward and Jasper get back from their hunt."

"How long are we talking about here, Carlisle? The kid's terrified and frankly, so am I! What if I screw him up? Say the wrong thing?"

"You can't say the wrong thing, Emmett. Just reassure him this wasn't his fault. I'll get back to the house as soon as I can. A few days, tops." The line went dead before Emmett could protest further.

"Well, crap," he muttered.

Emmett dropped to the floor and ducked his head under the desk. "How you doing, runt?"

"He's mad, isn't he? That's why he isn't coming back."

_I can't say the wrong thing. I can't say the wrong thing._

"Carlisle isn't mad at you, kid." He extended a hand and watched dismayed as Harry moved as far into the corner of the desk as he could. "Hey," Emmett said softly. "This wasn't your fault, harry. It was an earthquake. Nothing you did caused this, okay?"

Harry stared at him for a long time. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, runt. I'm sure. It was just an earthquake. Nothing you could have done would have changed anything. You didn't cause it and you couldn't stop it, alright?" Little by little Harry uncurled from his tucked away position.

"Is it gonna happen again?" He asked as he reached for Emmett's outstretched hand.

"We'll probably get a few aftershocks, yeah." The moment the words left his mouth Harry dashed back under the desk and Emmett let out a soft curse.

_So much for not being able to say the wrong thing. _

8888888888

"I bet those were an interesting couple of days," Charlie said with a grin. "But I bet you got to know Emmett really well."

"Understatement of the century, pal," Emmett remarked from the doorway. "The runt there refused to stay in the house. We camped on the lawn until Edward and Jasper got back. Three. Days. Later. No TV, no video games. No technology. It was brutal."

"It wasn't that bad!" Harry protested as Emmett sauntered into the room. "I have great memories of those few days. You trying to pitch a tent. Trying to cook with an open flame…"

"Shut up, you," Emmett said, pulling Harry into a head lock and out the door.

"I told you not to use that much lighter fluid. It's not my fault you singed your eyebrows off…"

Charlie's laugh boomed down the hall.

"At least they grew back!" Harry joked as he tried to pull away from Emmett. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. Not that you deserve it, brat." Emmett snatched a set of keys off the counter and pulled Harry into the garage. "Now shut up, we're going for a ride."


End file.
